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chososcamgirl · 1 day ago

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(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER NINETEEN: toothpaste

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*if you want the full sjap chososcamgirl experience click here!

Toothpaste.

That was all she needed.

The familiar jingle of the doorbell sounded as she stepped into the pharmacy, its ring echoing briefly before being swallowed by the soft hum of fluorescent lights above. She moved past the aisles with purpose, the faint scent of antiseptic and the bittersweet smell of charcoal lingering in the air.

At the counter, a brown-haired girl in her late twenties leaned against the register, lazily blowing out smoke from a cigarette.

"Shoko," her name tag read in bright red letters.

Pretty name.

"Hey," she muttered, a casual greeting as she passed. The girl didn't look up, but offered a half-hearted smile, her eyes unfocused as she exhaled smoke, lost in whatever thoughts dulled her day.

Toothpaste.

The word repeated in her head like a quiet mantra, the task simple, mundane. She wandered down the aisles with mechanical precision, her gaze flicking over shelves of medicines and other pharmacy essentials.

Her fingers brushed against boxes, but she didn't really look at them. She wasn't here to linger.

And then she stopped.

A stillness took hold of her. Her body froze mid-step, her pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with the cold air of the aisle.

In the distance, there was a figure. His back was to her, his face buried in his hands, almost in a gesture of resignation or frustration. His stance was familiar in an unsettling way, as if he was trying to disappear into the shelves, as if he were searching for something he didn't know how to find.

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, the hum of the lights suddenly deafening in her ears. The shape, the posture, the way his shoulders slumped-it was him.

For a moment, she debated standing there. Still, until he noticed her.

Then, just as her mind screamed at her to stay, she saw him start to turn—his head shifting, eyes beginning to look her way.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and without thinking, she bolted. She pivoted on her heel, her breath quick and shallow as she darted toward the next aisle, her legs carrying her as fast as they could.

She whips out her phone in frustration and starts furiously typing.

“Hey.”

She freezes, fingers hovering over the screen of her phone, her mind torn between the message she was about to send and the voice she recognizes. Slowly, she looks up.

His gaze locks with hers.

Megumi Fushiguro.

Her eyes narrow, irritation flaring as she exhales sharply. Without a word, she pushes past him, intent on finding what she came for.

Toothpaste.

The aisle ahead is a chaotic jumble of brightly coloured shampoo and conditioner bottles—too many choices, too many distractions. She weaves through the sea of products, her focus narrowing to the search for the one thing she came here for.

“Yn, please, I’m sorry.”

The words make her blood boil. God, she hates the tone he’s using. It’s almost like he doesn’t get it.

She bites her lip, trying to ignore the sting of his voice, but before she can refocus, she feels his hands settle gently on her shoulders. It takes all her willpower not to jerk away.

Not now, Megumi.

Finally, she spins around, giving him the sharpest glare she can muster.

“What do you want, Megumi?” she spits, every syllable laced with frustration.

His frown deepens, his eyes flicking to her lips, a hesitant tension hanging between them. He bites his lip, visibly unsure of how to proceed.

“I just... I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

Her jaw tightens, and she shoots a pointed glance back at the shelves, pretending to be absorbed in the endless row of oral care products. She couldn’t care less about his apology.

“I heard you the first time,” she mutters, grabbing the toothpaste off the shelf with one hand, her grip tight and fingers stiff.

A beat of silence stretches between them. Megumi’s voice cuts through again, softer, but with the same persistent edge.

“So... you’ll forgive me?”

She scoffs, shaking her head with a bitter laugh, her patience wearing thin. Of course, he would ask something so dumb.

Finally, her eyes land on the familiar packaging.

Toothpaste.

She picks it up, turning to face him with a glare that could melt stone.

“No. And if that’s all you have to say, then I’m leaving.”

With that, she brushes past him once again, this time with more force, walking swiftly toward the checkout counter. She can still smell the lingering scent of cigarettes, the same stale air she’d walked into when she first arrived.

The conveyor belt moves slowly beneath her, and she places the toothpaste down with a faint clink. Her fingers automatically slip into her pocket, searching for her wallet.

And then, she hears it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her.

She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. Her shoulders sag, frustration mounting in her chest. Of course he’d follow me.

She groans internally, preparing herself for whatever nonsense he’ll say next.

"Will this guy ever get a fucking life?" she mutters under her breath, barely holding back an eye roll.

“I got it,” a voice called from behind her.

The cashier, unfazed by the tension hanging in the air, set her pornographic magazine aside and casually picked up the toothpaste. Her cigarette, still smouldering in her mouth, bobbed up and down as she scanned the item, her expression completely indifferent to the moment's awkwardness.

She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Megumi from head to toe, as if waiting for him to do something else.

"Oh shit, uh, and these too," he stammered, placing the box of Magnum condoms on the conveyor belt, nervously scratching his neck.

Yn's eyes flickered to the box and then back to him. "Big night planned, huh?" she said, her voice dripping with mock amusement as she glared at the condoms.

Megumi’s face reddened. "Oh, uh, those aren’t for me," he mumbled, his discomfort palpable.

She merely gave a disinterested "Mhm," chewing the inside of her gum as the cashier processed the transaction.

Megumi opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, but was cut off by her.

"Did you guys want a bag?" she asked flatly.

"Yeah, please," Yn answered quickly, eager to leave the awkwardness behind.

The sound of plastic rustling filled the silence, only intensifying the tension. The cashier bagged their items with a practised, almost bored efficiency—as if this kind of transaction was the least exciting thing to happen all day.

Before Megumi could protest any further, a cloud of smoke from the cashier’s cigarette drifted in their direction. She didn’t even flinch.

“That’ll be 4250 yen, please,” she said lazily, still grinning, unfazed by the duo hacking their lungs out from the smoke.

Megumi quickly covered his mouth with his arm, pulling out his wallet with the sort of frantic haste only a person desperate to escape awkwardness can manage. He fumbled with his card, sliding it into the reader. The machine beeped.

Yn grabbed the bag in one swift motion, already on her way out of the store.

Megumi, looking flustered but relieved, gave a curt nod to the cashier before jogging after her, eager to leave the bizarre scene behind.

The cashier took another slow drag from her cigarette, her eyes following the two figures darting across the parking lot. She exhaled a thick plume of smoke, watching them with a detached amusement, tinged with something darker—something she didn’t care to name.

"Kids," she muttered to herself, shaking her head with a soft, resigned chuckle before turning her attention back to the magazine before her, as if it might shield her from whatever she couldn’t bear to witness.

—

The sharp click of shoes on wet concrete echoed in the cold night, piercing the stillness like a warning.

"Yn, please!" Megumi’s voice cracked, strained with exhaustion and desperation as he closed the gap between them.

Yn kept her head down, hands shoved deep into her pockets, the cold metal of the keys biting into her skin. Her pace quickened, heart racing as though the faster she moved, the less likely he would be able to reach her, to make her turn around. She couldn’t hear him. Not now. Not when everything she’d been holding back was on the edge of spilling over.

"Megumi, stop," she whispered, voice tight, trembling at the edges. "I already told you, I—"

Before she could finish, she felt his hand grip her wrist, pulling her to a halt. The sudden force of it made her breath catch, and for a moment, she was still trapped between the pull of his touch and the weight of her own resolve.

She looked at him, and everything inside her stilled.

His eyes weren’t the same. They were darker now, heavy with something deeper than she had ever seen in them before. No arrogance. No defiance. Only raw, unfiltered regret. Sadness. The kind that seemed to press in on his chest, making it hard to breathe, to think. He couldn’t meet her gaze for long; his eyes flickered to the ground, and for a moment, he looked like he might break. Like his whole world was about to shatter into a thousand pieces, right there on the wet pavement.

"Yn, please," he whispered, voice breaking, so full of pain it made her chest tighten. "I never meant any of it. What I said... it was so fucking stupid. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to lose you. I know... I know it’s selfish, asking you to stay, but I can’t... I can’t lose you. Please."

"Megumi, I—"

He cut her off, his voice hoarse, trembling with the weight of everything he hadn’t said before. "And I know you told me you weren’t ready for a relationship, and I’ve tried to understand that, to give you space. I’ve accepted it, even if it wasn’t easy. But..." His words faltered, and for a moment, he looked like he might swallow them back down, like they were too heavy for him to carry. But then he breathed in, steadying himself.

"But Yn... I would wait a thousand lifetimes for you. I would wait forever, if that’s what it took, because I want to be with you. I need to be with you. And not just because I miss you, or because I feel lost without you, but because... because, Yn, I want you. In a way I never thought I could want anyone."

He paused, the weight of his own confession sinking in, and when he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the space between them with the quiet intensity of a truth he could no longer keep buried.

“So hate me all you want Yn, just please don’t shut me out. I’ve spent so much time thinking I could walk away, that I could let you go, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Not anymore."

His chest rose and fell with the effort of his words, like he was trying to catch his breath after running a race he didn’t even know he was in. His body trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer force of his emotions breaking through. His hand clenched at his side, his knuckles white, as if holding on to something he might lose if he let go. His eyes were fixed on hers, pleading without words, desperate without asking.

For the first time in a long time, there was no bravado, no walls between them. Only the quiet truth of a man who had finally realised that what he felt for her wasn’t something he could walk away from. And he was asking��no, begging—for her to see it, to feel it, too.

His grip on her wrist tightened, his fingers trembling. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes, as though the weight of his own guilt might crush him if he held her gaze for too long. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the torrent of emotion that was threatening to spill over, but it was there—raw, uncontained.

Yn exhaled, the weight of his words settling over her like a fog. She wanted to pull away, to shut herself off from him—everything inside her screaming for distance—but she couldn’t. Not with him standing there, broken, stripped bare in front of her.

She shook her head slowly, the words thick in her throat. "Megumi... I could never hate you." The confession hung in the air between them, fragile and heavy with everything they had left unsaid.

His eyes snapped back to hers, searching for something—anything—that would give him hope. And in that moment, when the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, a single streetlight flickered above them, casting his face in a pale, golden halo. She froze. In that soft glow, she remembered. She remembered how he had always been beautiful—how she saw him for the first time underneath the lucent lights with his guitar, to the man standing in front of her carrying nothing but a bag of toothpaste and condoms. For a fleeting second, it felt like time had both stopped and rewound, all at once.

A fragile shift passed between them, unspoken but undeniable. His hand slipped from her wrist, fingers brushing lightly against her skin as if afraid to touch her too firmly, as if the very act of reaching for her might undo them both. But then, with no more hesitation, no more words to hold them back, he kissed her.

It wasn’t a kiss of anger, of apology, or even of reconciliation. It was everything—everything they’d held back, buried too deep for too long. The crash of everything unspoken, everything broken, everything still raw between them. It was the kiss they should have shared ages ago, but neither of them had been ready for. It was the space between their words—the silence that had stretched so long, finally, finally given form.

And in that kiss, there was no more distance. No more fear. No more hesitation. Just the weight of everything they hadn’t let go of, suddenly, impossibly, all at once.

extras!

• panda sent the ynmegumi gc a text like “plan in motion” so they all celebrated with a movie night (??)

• dunno know WHY they thought it would work

• it did so ig it’s okay…

• they knew their plan worked after ynmegumi turned their location sharing off LMFAOOOO

• shoko was definitely fan service for ree (are you reading this ree? are you?? are you?? did you like it??? do i get a kiss on the cheek?? do i??)

• but her working in the pharmacy isn’t THAT ooc so #cry

• she did not gaf about ynmegumi😭 she just let them have their moment

• brought her flashbacks to stsg gay asses #LetGodBeTrueQuickly🙌��

• yn wants to be main character soooo bad omfg girl give it up

• complete parking lot fight slash makeup scene cliché SUE ME

• btw they left the toothpaste out on the gravel for some reason so yn did in fact not get the stupid ass toothpaste

• got the condoms though😛😛😛

• yuta will definitely be questioning as to why they were open

• may or may not have done something not very sft in the car but hey!! you didn’t hear it from me…

a/n: aaaand we’re back!!! how’s everyone doing? good? okay? horrible? all three? same❤️ i hope this sufficed for taking a week off (i’m still in my shackles) this was probably my favourite chapter to write. gonna lie and say it didn’t make me teary eyed towards the end… champagne coast being the recommended song of the week even though it was a gag for the first chapter is a full circle moment. a bit of tzc reeferences sprinkled in the chapter bc i love those girls to death (even though mitch gave up on chapter 2… she didn’t even make it to lesbian digresser… #shitfriendmoment😒) ANYWAYS enjoy and see you guys tmr!! <3

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

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prythianpages · 2 days ago

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Just A Fool | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | Eris has a meeting with the Night Court's astrologer but when he enters the observatory he finds you instead. He's captivated by you and can't bring himself to understand why...until the bond snaps.

warnings: reader being delulu, mild angst (I think)

word count: 2,667

a/n: Surprise, surprise, I simply can't write one-shots! Though this can be read as a stand alone fic, it is based off of this one and takes place before. Azriel is not in this part himself but he is mentioned. Since this is in Eris's pov, I wrote it it in third person to make it easier.

Eris stepped into the observatory, the door gliding open with a quiet hiss. The room was large and spacious, his boots echoing against the smooth, polished floors. Despite himself, he begrudgingly admitted that the Night Court’s observatory was a masterpiece.

A dome of crystalline glass stretched above, revealing all the beauty the Night Court’s sky had to behold. Constellations glimmered and moonlight filtered through the room, casting a silver glow over the telescopes, charts and shelves lined with celestial tomes.

But it wasn’t the architecture that made his breath hitch and muscles tense.

A female sat curled on a velvet loveseat, her knees drawn up, and a journal braced against them as she wrote. Her head was bent in concentration, her hair falling like a curtain of shadow around her face. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and Eris let her ignorance linger. He watched her silently, taking in every detail he could for a moment longer, unaware of the weight of fate looming over his shoulder.

The dark purple dress she wore was simple yet elegant and the opal pendant that hung around her neck twinkled like starlight against her skin. Eris was certain she was not part of Rhysand’s inner circle—he would have known if she were. And to his knowledge, Keir had no other daughter aside from Mor.

Yet, the ease with which she carried herself in the room, it was as though she belonged there. She must come from a noble family but even then, the question as to why she was here still remained. Especially when he had a meeting with the Night Court’s astrologer. Had this female dared to sneak into the observatory? And how had she not heard his footsteps?

Foolish. Reckless.

And yet, Eris couldn’t deny the curiosity that tugged at him as he took a step closer, something foreign beginning to simmer in his chest.

When the door finally clicked shut, however, she flinched, her head snapping up. Wide eyes locked onto his, and the centuries of practiced composure could not hold him back, his body jerking upright. They stared at one another, the silence between them taut as a bowstring.

Her journal slipped from her lap, landing with a thud as she stood hastily. A flicker of panic crossed her face that was quickly replaced by a guarded expression. It was then that he concluded she had, in fact, dared to sneak in here.

Eris noted the slight flush on her cheeks and the way her fingers twitched. It was as if she were resisting the urge to snatch up the fallen book in fear of turning her eyes away from him.

He moved forward, each step deliberate, the measured thud of his boots filling the space between them. His amber eyes roamed her, unhurried. His lips curved faintly, a teasing spark lighting his gaze.

“Well, I was expecting someone much taller, older, and wiser...”

The female stiffened, her gaze darting to the journal on the floor, then back to him. Eris caught the motion. “What? Cat’s got your tongue?”

Her jaw tightened, but her voice was steady when she finally spoke. “If it is Lord Damus you seek, that is my father. He should be here shortly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right out of your way…”

She stepped toward the journal, her intention clear. But Eris was faster and intent on keeping her with him for longer. A flick of his wrist and the journal flew to his hand, carried by a golden thread of flame. He thumbed the worn cover, glancing down at it with mock intrigue.

“A diary?” he teased, a laugh dancing on his lips as his eyes flicked to hers. “What are you, a child?”

“Give that back,” she snapped, fire sparking in her eyes as she took a step closer.

Eris arched a brow, surprised by the boldness in her tone. The spark in her gaze sent a thrill through him, a pull he couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t one to concern himself with trivialities like this, and yet…

“No,” he replied simply, effortlessly stepping away from her poor attempt to reach him.

When she tried again, he lifted his hand, a flicker of flames dancing at his fingertips in warning. “What secrets could a Night Court female like you possibly be hiding in here? Some scandalous account of a rival’s terrible choice in gowns? Or some torrid tale of unrequited love among the court?”

His gaze dropped to the page she had left open. He should’ve let her leave. The meeting with her father was much more important than reading her diary but he was now curious about her. And even more curious to know what she had been so entranced by, enough to have not noticed his entrance.

Eris’s eyes scanned the elegant script, and his smirk deepened. “‘I love everything about him. Not in the way of soft, fleeting things, but in the way stars burn eternal. Steady and unwavering.”

He paused to glance at her. Her cheeks were flushed now but her eyes didn’t waver. There was a defiance in her gaze, even as her lips pressed into a tight line.

Eris’s attention returned to the page, a strange tightening in his chest. He hadn’t expected such emotion from her words and though he couldn’t understand why, it seemed to unsettle him.

“I love the way his eyes, the warmest shade of hazel, hold my heart every time he looks at me, the way his gaze softens. Or the way his shadows linger just a heartbeat longer around me. I wonder if they whisper my name when I’m not near…”

And then he saw it.

A name. Scribbled in a flourish of ink beside what he assumed was hers and framed by a heart. His chest tightened further, this time with something sharper, darker. He knew that name. All too well.

The flame at his fingertips extinguished as his hand fell to his side. He turned to her, his amber eyes blazing, his jaw set.

It should have been trivial. He had hoped for something inconsequential, a petty grievance or a noblewoman’s idle musings. Anything that he could dismiss with a smirk and leave behind without a second thought. Anything–anyone– but him.

Instead, her words tugged at something buried. A tether that always seemed to lead back to that wretched shadowsinger. That damned Illyrian who haunted his thoughts more often than he cared to admit.

Eris didn’t understand it and was unsure he wanted to. He was unsure if he even wanted to understand the female before him but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from her.

So he allowed his disbelief to take over and settled on what he was familiar with.

“What a pity,” Eris said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “That someone like you would stoop so low and waste such beautiful words on a bastard like him.”

“You don’t know anything about him,” she replied briskly and then as an afterthought, added, “or me.”

Eris laughed, the sound sharp and incredulous. “Don’t I?” He said, waving the leather journal tauntingly. The reaction she gave was almost amusing—almost. It wasn’t the insult he’d thrown at her that provoked such defensiveness, but the one aimed at him. Her precious shadowsinger.

“I think I’ve learned plenty. Enough to know you are a delusional fool. Or perhaps…”

He stepped forward leisurely, his hands crossing behind his back, like a predator savoring the chase. For every step he took towards her, she took a step back, her breath catching in her throat. He tilted his head, the amused smirk never leaving his face. He took note of the way she tried to steady her breathing. And though he thought her a fool, at least she wasn’t foolish enough to pretend she didn’t feel it. The power humming in the air around him, coiling like fire beneath his skin.

The floor illuminated beneath her weight as she stepped into the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. Eris continued until he had her trapped, her back pressed against the small table in the center of the room that held up a glowing, golden globe. He was on her then, close enough that the heat of him seemed to reach out and curl around her.

She stiffened as he leaned in and then, as if it were his right, he reached out and tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her gaze to meet his. His amber eyes swept over her face, mockingly intent.

But when his eyes met hers, the simmering in his chest flared, growing hotter with each passing heartbeat. He brushed it aside, too caught up in the thrill of provoking her to give it any real thought.

“Perhaps, you’re unwell?” he asked, his voice dripping with condescension. “You must’ve taken a fall recently, or been struck on the head as a child? I can’t imagine any other explanation for…”

His voice had trailed off. Now that he was up close, her scent of night blooming flowers–phlox– and amber teased at his senses. It wanted to wrap around him, lure him in. He released his hold on her, reigning in the flare of heat that surged through him. He masked the effect she had on him with a lazy wave of his hand toward the journal he still held. “…this.”

Her brows furrowed, her glare sharp enough to cut. She snatched her journal back from him with such fury he had to bite back a laugh. “I am perfectly well.”

Eris gave a grimace of resigned disbelief. “Just a fool then.”

“Tell me,” he continued, voice rich with feigned curiosity, “does he truly look your way? Or are you merely another shadow to him? Rumor has it he’s quite taken with a certain lovely, cauldron-turned fae... Oh, forgive me, my lady, did I strike a nerve?”

Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the journal tightly to her chest, shielding it as if it could protect her from the sting of his words. But there was fire in her eyes that only intrigued him further.

“He’ll soon realize that she’s not the one for him.”

“Will he? And what makes you so certain? Do you think yourself his destiny? If that’s the case, then I have quite the–”

“Crushes come and go but love stays,” she interrupted him, voice firm. She then looked up towards the domed ceiling. Her voice softened, a wistfulness creeping into her words. “And the stars and the planets, they never lie.”

The floor glowed brighter, the engraved markings on the zodiac wheel shifting with a series of clicks. From the center, a galaxy unfurled, its planets and constellations rising and floating into the air. They remained suspended in a tentative dance, awaiting an order.

An inexplicable flutter tore through his chest as he watched her expression ease at the sight above, a tender gleam in her eyes.

“It’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To see where the planets align for you. To discover if the stars favor your path, if there’s any certainty to be found. To gather hope and dare to dream.”

Eris’s smirk faltered for a split second, his amber eyes narrowing. He quickly masked the slight discomfort, his expression returning to one of controlled indifference. “It sounds like you’re stuck in a dream yourself. One that will be harsh to wake up from.”

But his sharp words didn’t land as he expected. She didn’t flinch or glare back at him. Instead, she smiled at him. A smile that was so sure, so knowing. It truly made him question her sanity.

“Azriel may hold affection for her now, but he’ll love me. One day, he’ll see it. Just as clearly as I do.”

Eris could only stare at her. The certainty in her words, the unwavering belief in some twisted fate. It was maddening. She was maddening. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to continue to laugh at her naivety or… believe her.

Because she was right. He had come to Lord Damus for guidance. In a world as precarious as his, he yearned for a semblance of certainty. He wanted to hope, wanted to dream. Something to cling on to, to help him carry the weight of his burdens.

Her words lingered in the air between them, heavy and determined.

And then, as if the universe itself had conspired to provoke him further, it happened.

The world seemed to tilt beneath his feet. The edges of the room blurred, melting into golden and white light. All he could see was her. The female whose eyes reflected the endless stars above, whose words burned like a flame deep in his chest.

That simmering sensation in his chest flared again, too scorching to ignore any longer. The fire coursing through his veins roared to life, surging toward her as if recognizing its other half. His other half.

Mate.

The female standing before him, all defying words and starry wit, was his.

And she was in love with someone else.

“Cauldron above,” he cursed, his voice a low murmur. He took a step back, still reeling but forcing his composure to hold.

The sound of the door to the observatory opening snapped him out of his trance. He quickly distanced himself, needing space to regain full control.

“Lord Eris, forgive me if you’ve been waiting–what are you doing here?”

“Oh,” the female–his mate–breathed and he could feel the way her heart quickened. “I was just dusting off the shelves here, father.”

Lord Damus approached a shelf, dragging his finger along the surface. His gaze narrowed, as if sensing dust. The faintest glimmer of energy rippled in the air, imperceptible to most, but Eris saw it settle. It was, after all, his magic.

When Lord Damus raised his finger to inspect it, there was not a speck to be found. A thoughtful hum escaped him, and Eris felt her relax, even if only slightly.

“You may leave now.” Lord Damus said to her, dismissing her as if she were a servant and not his daughter.

“Yes, father.” She politely replied, bowing her head toward him before reluctantly turning to Eris. She hastily did the same, her eyes briefly meeting his once more before she hurried out of the room.

Eris watched her leave, fighting the threat of emotions swirling him. It wasn’t until the door finally clicked shut that he exhaled. As if some weight had been lifted. Though, it didn’t feel any lighter.

“Please, have a seat.” Lord Damus's voice interrupted, pulling Eris from his thoughts.

The Night Court astrologer gestured for Eris to take a seat where she had been previously sitting. But Eris couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t sit there, knowing her scent still lingered.

“Forgive me, Lord Damus, but I need to reschedule.”

“But you’ve come all this way already…,” Lord Damus’s brows furrowed. “Did my daughter say something to you? Allow me to apologize on her behalf. She can be quite unnerving–that one.”

“No, not at all.” Eris lied smoothly. He lifted his hand, and a small note appeared, perched between his fingers. Flames erupted from the edges, quickly eating away at the note until it was reduced to ashes in his palm. “Something has suddenly come up in my court that requires immediate attention.”

Lord Damus considered this, his eyes narrowing as if contemplating the words. Finally, he gave a short nod. “Very well, then. We can reschedule for another time.”

Eris didn’t wait for another word. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. He winnowed directly to his room. Only then did he let his mask slip. Images of her flooded his mind and he braced himself against his bed post with one hand. His other hand clutched at his chest where the emotions were scorching, the fire there forging the threads of fate.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on his own reflection. Eris had called her–his mate–a fool. Yet, as he stood before himself, he realized a bitter truth...

He was the greatest fool of all.

[series masterlist]

A/n: the next part in this au will be some fluff between Az & you 🫶🏽 that takes place after Hopelessly Devoted.

series tag list: @kaitttttttt , @nebarious , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @justyouraveragekleemain , @tothestarsandwhateverend ,

@ratgirl2020 , @myromanempiree , @vanserrasimp , @itsswritten , @acourtofbatboydreams

@imjustagirl713, @paleidiot, @scarsandallaz

if you asked to be put on the tag-list and don't see your username, please remind me!

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

#eris x reader #azriel x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #eris fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel x you #hopelessly devoted eris

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 2 days ago

Text

Feelings

Arcane. Yes. More brain rot as if I didn't have enough already.

Summary: Young!Silco x reader, Silco confesses to a certain extent when reader is drunk and very unlikely to remember the confession

You're a fighter, he knows that well. Those who lived in the underground tended to be such, for survival's sake. You're a survivor, he knows that well. You were still alive after all, and that was the mark of a survivor. So why did his chest tighten every time he saw you do a dangerous thing he knew you'd done a thousand times before? Why did his heart jump to his throat every time he saw you fight?

Why did his stomach flutter every time you looked back at him?

As you downed yet another glass of your favourite drink, the familiar smell wafting from your breath, he feels his throat constrict at the closeness of it all. Your free hand is mere inches away from his own hand, fingers tapping on the wooden counter top of the bar, your shoulder brushing against his. If he concentrates hard enough, he swears he can feel your warmth, then again it might be the chill of the night playing tricks on him. Still, it doesn't take away the fact that you are so close to him, knocking back shot after shot.

"How many?" Vander asks, gesturing towards you.

"Not enough," you slur, shoving the now empty cup towards him.

"Eight," Silco answers without hesitation, reaching over to take the cup away.

"Not enough," you mumble again, clumsily grasping for your cup.

"I think otherwise," Silco frowns, passing the cup to Vander who leaves the two of you alone to start cleaning up the bar. It's about time The Last Drop closes anyways, and Vander knows it's easier for his brother to talk openly to you when he isn't around. Felicia sends Vander a knowing wink and continues pretending to not eavesdrop on the juicy conversation, but fails to hide her growing smile. Vander huffs in amusement and decides to give the two some privacy, grabbing the woman's arm and gently hauling her away, much to her annoyance.

"You've had enough for tonight," Silco sighs, trying to drag you off the stool to which you stubbornly cling.

"Nooooo!" You whine, pouting at him which causes the butterflies in his stomach to go off at an alarming rate. Still, he finds a way to overcome that weakness, if only for a moment, and properly yanks you away. You stumble into him, head smacking into his shoulder and he grunts.

"You're heavy," he grumbles, slinging your left arm over his shoulder.

"I'm not heavy, you're heavy," you cackle, clearly thinking your comeback is very clever. He rolls his eyes, wondering why he even bothers sometimes but then he sees the way your eyes crinkle as you laugh and his heart melts again. He starts to make his way to the spare bed in his and Vander's shared apartment, the route familiar due to the number of times he's hauled your drunk self there. You stumble every now and then, groaning at the headache that's starting to kick in and nearly smack him in the face for some unknown reason but Silco still gets you to your destination, dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Don't move," he says sternly, going to the wardrobe to take a fresh set of clothes for you.

"Hehe." He can hear you giggle, and from the way your giggles start to become muffled, he's pretty sure you've gone ahead and moved anyways. He sighs, shaking his head and turns around with your clothes draped over his arm to find that you've started rolling around on the bed. It's amusing, to see you drunkenly try to wrap yourself in the blanket as you roll about but then that feeling quickly gets replaced by fear when you roll off the bed and hit the floor with a yelp of pain.

He rushes over immediately, your clothes haphazardly thrown onto the bed and unwraps you from your blanket tangle, checking you over for any injuries. Fortunately, there's none aside from a bruise that is sure to form on your forehead where the floor had come up to meet it, and Silco is relieved. Not that he would ever tell you that, of course.

He helps you back onto the bed, listening as you whine about how your head hurts even more now and holds himself from flicking you in the forehead. Right now, he needs to ensure you don't throw up all over yourself and that you wake up tomorrow with as little issue as possible. Luckily, tonight you've decided to be cooperative, so it doesn't take long for Silco to change you into your new set of clothes and get you to lie down on the bed without rolling around.

"M sorry."

"For?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" He frowns, trying to recall a reason for you to be like this. You take it the wrong way and curl into a ball, shying away from him. He reaches out but you pull away, shaking your head.

"You always have to clean up after me," you mumble sadly. "I'm such a burden."

"Don't you dare say that about yourself!" Silco snaps, and immediately regrets it as you skitter as far away from him as the bed allows. He takes a deep breath, pushing the anger he feels at himself for not noticing your feelings earlier and centers himself. He has to rectify this mistake, make you see yourself the way he sees you, if only so that he can see a smile on your face again tonight.

"You're not a burden," he says, gently taking your hand.

"As if," you mutter, but don't let go of his hand.

"I mean it. I clean up after you because I —" The words get lodged in his throat. He swallows, and tries again. "I — I care for you."

There. It's out now. The reason why he always steals glances at you, the reason why he's always chiding you, the reason why he gets all worried whenever you throw yourself into danger without a care in the world.

Nobody cares if we live or die, you had said before, we're but specks of dust to Piltover, lost to the wind forever if we die and insignificant if we live.

But we are not. We're just as human as they are, he'd replied.

And that's why there's that dream of Zaun, isn't it? Your smile had lit the murky grey of the underground up. A toast, to a Zaun reality.

A toast. That was the first time he had seen you drunk, and you'd nearly fallen into the waters below. Silco had caught you just in time, staring into the depths of your eyes and saw the fire that burned behind them despite how drunk you were.

"You're special to me, in a different way from Felicia and Vander." He knows you won't remember this conversation, and that brings him a small comfort, even if there's a part of him that wants you to remember it. You look up at him, taking in the way his gaze softens, feel his hand give yours a squeeze, and feel a fuzzy feeling in your chest that's definitely not from the alcohol.

"Special," you echo. He gives you a nod, silent but encouraging. You squeeze his hand back, liking the way the word rolls off your tongue, but you like the way his name rolls off your tongue better.

"Silco," you say, unsure of what to follow the word up with. He raises an eyebrow, and huffs with amusement when he sees the way you struggle to keep your eyes open. The alcohol is catching up with you, it's only a matter of time before you knock out and this night will be lost to the wind.

"Stay, please." You whisper, feeling sleep tugging at your body.

"Always." It's a promise not just for tonight, but for the rest of your lives, whether you know it or not.

Always.

#arcane #arcane s2 #arcane silco #young silco #silco x reader #young silco x reader #fluff with a little angst #ironic how i was listening to the most pumped arcane s2 songs while writing this #silco

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littlelamy · 16 hours ago

Note

Reader request with Rafe. Maybe she breaks down sobbing in the middle of sex and he has no idea why, thinking he hurt her. Her reasons aren’t bad. As someone that has only been with one person personally, and he was such a selfish uncaring lover, I legit think I would start sobbing in bed if someone was loving and caring towards me and treating me like the most precious thing. Love your writing <3

a/n: thank you so much for requesting...hope you like it!!⭐️

the room was drenched in golden light, the low hum of the bedside lamp the only sound as rafe’s hands roamed your body. his palms were warm against your skin, calloused but soft in their touch, tracing a path down your sides like he was discovering you for the first time. his lips followed, pressing kisses that started at your neck and trailed lower, his breath hot and deliberate.

“you okay?” he murmured, the deep rasp of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. his fingers hooked under the hem of your shirt, brushing the bare skin of your stomach as he paused to look at you.

your lips parted, and though you nodded, the tightness in your throat betrayed you. “yeah,” you whispered. “i’m okay.”

rafe studied your face, his brow furrowing slightly before he leaned down to kiss you again. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, but slow, sensual, the kind of kiss that set your skin alight. his tongue slid against yours, coaxing a soft moan from your lips as his hand moved lower, slipping between your legs.

“god, you’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire. his fingers stroked you gently, building heat that spread through your entire body, but there was nothing hurried about the way he moved. "my baby, so perfect." he almost purred, everything about him was deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of this—every second of you.

you arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he pressed his body closer to yours. his hips rocked against you, his movements careful but firm, and the pressure sent sparks of pleasure through your veins.

but that was the moment it all became too much.

your chest tightened, your breath hitching as the weight of everything crashed down at once. the tenderness, the patience, the care—it was everything you’d never known, everything you thought you didn’t deserve. and suddenly, the tears came.

a sob tore from your throat, raw and unbidden, cutting through the heated silence like a knife.

rafe froze instantly, his body going rigid above you as his eyes snapped to your face. “y/n?” his voice was sharp with concern, his hands pulling back like he was afraid he’d hurt you. “what—did i—did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, tears spilling freely now as you pressed a trembling hand to your face. “no,” you managed, your voice cracking. “no, you didn’t hurt me. i’m sorry, i—”

“hey, hey,” he interrupted, his hands hovering near your arms but not quite touching. his voice softened, though there was still a note of panic in it. “don’t apologize. just tell me what’s wrong. did i do something? did i push too far?”

you shook your head again, harder this time, your tears soaking into the pillow beneath you. “no, rafe. it’s not you. it’s… it’s me.”

his brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face as he searched your eyes for answers. “what do you mean? you’re crying, baby. i don’t know what to do.”

the raw vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you. you forced yourself to take a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you reached up to touch his face. “i’m crying because you’re too good to me,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. “what?”

“you’re too good to me,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve only ever been with one person before, and he… he didn’t care about me. not really. it was always about him—what he wanted, what he could take. i got used to that, and now… now you’re here, and you’re so kind and patient, and i don’t know how to handle it.”

his expression shifted then, his confusion melting into something softer, though there was an edge of anger in his jaw—anger directed not at you but at the person who had made you feel this way.

“y/n,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “that guy? he didn’t deserve you. not for a second. and i don’t care how long it takes, i’ll spend every moment proving to you that you’re worth everything. do you hear me?”

tears spilled down your cheeks again, but this time they weren’t born of pain. his words wrapped around you like a balm, soothing wounds you hadn’t realized were still bleeding.

“i don’t want to scare you off,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“scare me off?” rafe repeated, his tone incredulous. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “y/n, you couldn’t scare me off if you tried. i just… i want you to feel safe with me. always.”

“i do,” you said quickly, your voice breaking with urgency. “i do feel safe. that’s why i’m crying, rafe. because i’ve never felt this before. no one’s ever… treated me like this before.”

his lips pressed to your forehead, lingering there as he exhaled deeply. “then we’ll go slow,” he murmured against your skin. “as slow as you need. or we can stop altogether. whatever you want, baby.”

“no,” you said firmly, your hands curling around his wrists to keep him close. “i don’t want to stop. i just… needed to tell you. needed you to know why i’m like this.”

his eyes searched yours for a long moment before he nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “okay,” he said simply. “but promise me, if you ever need to stop, you’ll tell me. no matter what.”

“i promise,” you whispered, your voice steadier now.

he kissed you again, but this time it was different. there was still care in the way his lips moved against yours, but now there was something deeper, something hungrier. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hips rolled forward, the friction sending a gasp spilling from your lips.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed wet kisses to your skin. his body moved against yours in slow, deliberate thrusts, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough.

and this time, you let yourself feel it. you let yourself drown in the way he touched you, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. because for the first time in a long time, you believed that maybe—just maybe—you were.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

#rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron blurb #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron obx #outer banks rafe

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starkeyslibrary · 21 hours ago

Text

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 2

pairing: you x drew starkey

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden light across your shared bedroom. You stirred awake to the sound of Drew shuffling around the room, already half-dressed for his next press obligation. His movements were quick, almost practiced, as he buttoned his shirt and grabbed his watch from the nightstand.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Drew’s voice was soft, a gentle whisper as he leaned over to kiss your forehead. He was already in work mode, his hair still damp from the shower, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne. His presence should have been comforting, but today, it just felt distant.

“Morning,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and adjusting the blanket to wrap yourself tighter. You didn’t feel like facing the day. The night before had been difficult enough, and you didn’t know how to move forward from it. “What’s on the schedule today?”

“More interviews,” Drew said, running his hand through his damp hair. “Odessa and I are doing a segment for some morning show. Same old PR stuff.”

You nodded, your throat tightening, trying not to let your discomfort show. You had gotten used to this routine – being around Drew when the cameras were on, the endless interviews, the flashes, the constant attention. But this time, something about the way he said her name made it feel different. More real.

“You’ll do great,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Drew’s gaze softened, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, but it was too fast. You knew it didn’t sound convincing.

Drew nodded but didn’t press further. He bent down and kissed you on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

The day dragged on. You couldn’t focus, your thoughts a whirlwind of insecurity and doubt. You found yourself staring at your phone every few minutes, waiting for Drew to check in. But nothing. He was busy with the press tour, and every update you saw on social media made things worse.

Drew and Odessa. Odessa and Drew. Their names were all over the internet. You could almost feel the heat radiating from your phone screen as you scrolled through the clips from that morning’s interview.

In the clip, they looked so natural together, so comfortable. Drew’s easy laughter filled the air as Odessa leaned into him, her hand brushing his arm in what seemed like a casual, innocent gesture. But you knew better. This wasn’t just a movie press tour. This was a carefully crafted performance.

Still, it didn’t stop the pit in your stomach from growing.

“Working with Drew has been amazing,” Odessa said in the clip, her voice light, playful. “He’s so talented, and we just clicked instantly.”

Drew’s smile was warm, maybe too warm. “Yeah, Odessa makes it easy. She’s incredible,” he added, his eyes never leaving her face.

The host leaned forward with a teasing smile. “I can tell. You two have such great chemistry. Think the fans will start shipping you together?”

Odessa glanced at Drew, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe,” she said with a flirtatious tone. “But we’re just having fun. Giving the people what they want.”

The camera zoomed in on them, capturing the moment when Drew’s fingers brushed Odessa’s hand. You could feel your heart sinking, the jealousy and pain too raw to ignore.

The comments started flooding in within minutes:

@/user9819837: “I ship them SO hard! They’re adorable!”

@/lover987756: “Move over Y/N, #Dressa is the new endgame.”

@/user3012002039: “Their chemistry is off the charts.. bet it’s not just acting 😉”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt the wetness on your cheek.

You tried to push the feelings away, focusing on something – anything – else. But the restlessness in your chest wouldn’t let up. Finally, you texted your best friend, Madelyn, desperate for someone who understood.

You: I don’t know what to do anymore. I saw the interview today. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. I feel like I’m invisible to him.

The reply came almost instantly.

Madelyn: I’m sorry you’re going through this. I get it, I really do. Maybe it’s just the PR stuff? They’re working, you know? But I know it’s tough. Have you talked to him about it?

You stared at the screen for a moment. How could you talk to Drew about this? Every time you tried, he dismissed your concerns as if they didn’t matter. As if this was just part of his job, and you needed to accept it.

You: I’ve tried, it’s like he doesn’t get how much it hurts to see him with her, even if it’s all fake. I don’t know if I can take it.

You stared at the text, hoping Madelyn would have something better to say. Instead, she was blunt, but kind.

Madelyn: I know you’re hurting, but you’ve got to be honest with him. He’s not going to change if he doesn’t know what you’re going through. You have to talk to him. For you.

By the time Drew came home, the tension between you was unbearable. You hadn’t spoken since the morning, and when Drew walked in, it was clear that something was off. But before you could say anything, he dropped his bag and ran his fingers through his hair, looking exhausted.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I’m gonna head out with the guys tonight. Some of the crew from Outer Banks are getting together. I’ve gotta keep up appearances.”

You stared at him, not sure what to say. He seemed so distant, like the space between you had grown too large to bridge. You nodded, trying not to let your frustration show.

“I’ll be fine,” you said, even though it was the farthest thing from the truth. You didn’t want to spend another night alone, so you texted the girls group chat.

You: “Hey want to come over tonight? I need some company.”

Madelyn: “Of course! I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Madison: “Count me and Carlacia in! She is riding with me <3”

You were relieved when your friends arrived – Madelyn, Madison and a few others. They could tell something was wrong. As soon as they stepped inside, Madelyn pulled you aside.

“What’s going on? You look like you’ve been through hell.”

You didn’t want to break down in front of them, but the words tumbled out before you could step them.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Maddie. The way Drew is with Odessa… it feels like he’s slipping away, and I’m powerless to stop it.”

Madelyn sat down beside you, rubbing your back comfortingly. “You’re not powerless, Y/N. He’s just – caught up in the PR stuff. But you have to talk to him about it.”

“I’ve tried,” you whispered, your eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

The night passed in a blur of laughter and distractions, but the moment your friends left, everything came rushing back. You grabbed your phone to check for messages, hoping for something from Drew, but instead you were met with the flashing headlines on your feed.

“Drew Starkey and Odessa A’Zion Together Again – The ‘Dresda’ Romance Heats Up!”

You clicked on the article, your heart sinking when you saw the photos. Drew and Odessa walking together in the city at night. Their hands were brushing, and there was an intimacy between them you hadn’t seen between you and Drew in weeks. The photos made it look effortless, like they were a couple – nothing about it screamed “PR stunt.”

You felt your world crumble around you as the images loaded, one after another. Drew’s smile was wide and genuine, a stark contrast to the forced, stiff smiles he’d been giving you lately. Odessa was laughing, her head tilted back, looking up at him with that same spark you’d seen in their interviews. They looked perfect together.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the last of the photos appeared on the screen – Drew and Odessa stopped at a café, sitting so close their legs brushed. You swiped through the photos again, then again, hoping at the next swipe would somehow make it stop. But it didn’t.

Your heart ached in a way you couldn’t put into words. Drew was supposed to be your person. But now? It felt like he had chosen someone else – someone who wasn’t you.

The room spun as you tried to steady your breath. You curled up into yourself, feeling the weight of everything press down on you.

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss

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willowsnook · 2 days ago

Text

community relations (18+)

Pulled pork! Vinegar! Wrap! ~ Mike’s Way ~ Thank you for this, such a great idea!!

quinn hughes x coworker!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

—----------------------------------------------------

“I have an observation from today,” Quinn said as you packed up after the event.

The local children’s hospital had sent some kids to skate with Canucks players, including their captain, who was lingering behind.

“And what’s that?” you asked, glancing up over the box you were carrying.

“You don’t know how to skate,” he said, smirking.

“I do not,” you admitted with a smile.

“How?” he asked, bewildered. “You literally work for a hockey team.”

Shrugging, you passed him the box. “My job doesn’t require me to be on the ice.”

“But still,” he persisted, following you to the storage closet. “Let me teach you.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip.

“Not for another hour,” he replied, grinning wide. “Now let’s find you some skates, princess.” Before you could protest, he was already running off. Sighing, you followed, wondering what you’d gotten yourself into.

Quinn was the most requested player for community events, so you spent a lot of time with him. At first, he was quiet and reserved, but over time, your friendship grew, making your job easier and more fun.

After discovering you weren’t a hockey fan growing up, he took it upon himself to teach you the basics. Today’s lesson, however, would take place on the ice.

Sitting on a bench, you watched as Quinn tied your skates. His fingers moved deftly, and he glanced up at you with a reassuring smile.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said softly. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You clung to the wall as he led you onto the rink, showing you the basics before holding out his hands. Taking them hesitantly, you shuffled off the wall, Quinn skating backward to guide you.

“That’s it!” he encouraged. “Isn’t it fun?”

“Not really,” you replied, earning a loud laugh from him.

As you completed a lap, you began to wobble. Quinn tightened his grip, pulling you into his chest as you stumbled. His arm wrapped securely around your waist, steadying you.

“Easy,” he murmured, his face inches from yours. Your cheeks flushed at the proximity, and neither of you moved.

“I think you can let go of me now,” you teased, breaking the tension. Quinn stepped back, his cheeks reddening as he guided you off the ice.

Later that afternoon, your mind wandered to the interaction. Quinn was undeniably attractive—and kind—but he was also your coworker, the captain of the team. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to feel this way about him, but he wasn’t making it easy to resist.

Making yourself dinner, you picked up your phone to Facetime your sister.

“Hey y/n,” she greeted as her face popped up on the screen.

“Hey J,” you replied, propping the phone up. “Ready for this weekend?

She was visiting Vancouver to visit you and catch a game as your guest. You were excited, as you hadn’t seen her since over the summer and were very much in need of a girl's weekend.

“So ready, I also expect you to take me bar hopping after the game on Saturday,” she said and you giggled.

“Dangerous,” you replied, remembering the very rough nights the two of you had shared while going out.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you when I land tomorrow,” she said before hanging up. This was going to be a long weekend.

—--------------------------------------------------------

“That was amazing,” Jaelen said after the final buzzer went off. The Canucks had won easily and you were happy just to be a fan for this game rather than an employee. “I want to be a WAG so bad.”

You laughed at your sister, knowing this was nothing new. The first thing she said when you told her you got the job a couple of years ago was ask when she could meet some of the players.

“Do you know where they go out after the game?” she asked, and you sighed, trying to look away. “Omg, you do!”

Because of Quinn’s insistence that you eventually join him to celebrate one of these days, you knew the usual hangout was a small bar a couple of blocks away. You lived close to the arena, so you decided to stop by your apartment first and change into a pair of black jeans and a tight white top. You made a couple of martinis to pregame and eventually made your way to the bar.

A lot of the hockey team was already there when you both arrived, and you spotted Quinn standing by the bar chatting with someone you thought might be one of his brothers. Jaelen was already dragging you to the bar, and you avoided his gaze as you stood up to order.

“Put her drink on my tab,” you heard him say as he approached you. You looked over at him with a small smile on your face and met his eyes, sparkling with amusement.

“Finally made it, and I didn’t even text you this time,” he teased.

“My sister wanted to come out,” you defended.

“Lot of bars in Vancouver, princess,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah yeah, she wants to bag one of your teammates,” you admitted. Quinn stepped closer to you, bringing his mouth to your ear.

“I like how you didn’t include me as one of the options there,” he whispered, and you were instantly flustered, not even realizing what you had said.

“Shut up,” you mumbled before sipping your drink. His smirk widened at your discomfort.

“Hi, I’m Jack,” the guy he had been with earlier interrupted, holding his hand out. Quinn shot him a look of annoyance, but Jack’s smile didn’t falter.

“Y/n,” you replied, shaking his hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, making Quinn blush and you smiled. “And I can see why.”

Jack shamelessly checked you out and you tilted your head, amused at the brother.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You replied, locking eyes once again.

“Only for you, sweetheart,” he flirted, and you felt a slight blush cross your features. Quinn was frowning now as he glared at Jack, who shot him a wink. You chatted a little longer with the boys, well mostly Jack, as Quinn had grown quieter as the night went on. Jack finally left to go to the bathroom and you turned to him.

“You okay?” You asked and he looked down at you, clearly contemplating saying something.

“I don’t like him flirting with you,” he admitted and you looked at him confused.

“He’s just being nice,” you countered and he gave you a look.

“I know my brother.”

“I’m not going to hook up with him Quinn,” you said amused, grabbing your purse. “There’s only one Hughes brother I’m interested in and it’s not him. I’ll see you later.”

His eyes widened as he processed your words and he watched you walk away.

—------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of weeks had passed since then, and Quinn had definitely been more flirty with you but hadn’t made a move. You were starting to get worried that you had said too much that night at the bar; it was exactly why you avoided drinking around him in the first place.

It was the week before Thanksgiving and you were going to your good friend Rachel’s house for a Friendsgiving party. She had done it each year for the past three and it always meant a good meal and then sitting around a bonfire, drinking and talking. You had been looking forward to it all month; it was a good chance to get away from work and just relax. It didn’t seem like work would be getting away from you, though, as you looked over to see Quinn stepping out of an Uber at the same time you pulled up.

“What’s up princess?” He asked with a grin, taking the potato dish you brought out of your hands.

“What are you doing here?” You asked befuddled.

“I’m friends with Rachel’s new boyfriend,” he said and you nodded. Rachel had started dating this guy she had met at work a couple of months ago. You had yet to meet him but had heard good things. “You’re friends with Rachel, right?”

“Yeah,” you told him as you walked in the house.

“Y/n!” Rachel called as you made it into the kitchen. She was wearing a cute little apron over her sweater and jeans and you hugged her in greeting. “Meet Paul!”

Her boyfriend gave you a kind smile, shaking your hand before turning to pull Quinn into a hug.

“What’s up huggy?” Paul said and you watched amused as the two boys caught up.

“I totally forgot to tell you that Quinn was coming. You guys see each other a lot at work, right? " she asked, and you nodded. “He’s cute.”

“Rachel,” you warned and she smirked.

“Just saying.”

You helped her with the final touches as everyone else arrived, Quinn staying in the kitchen with you guys, nursing a beer.

“Okay, everyone, grab a plate and food, and let's eat!” Rachel called, and you joined her in line. You filled your plate and moved to the dining room, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as Quinn took the spot next to you.

“So how long have you two been together?” One of Rachel’s friends asked you and Quinn. Other conversations flowed in the background as you looked at Quinn quickly before answering.

“We aren’t together, just coworkers,” you said and she nodded.

“Just coworkers, not even friends?” Quinn said, pouting and you rolled your eyes.

“Friends,” you confirmed and Rachel gave you a wink from where she was sitting.

“I didn’t know you worked for the Canucks,” the girl continued and you nodded, taking a sip of your wine.

“Yeah, have been for a couple of years now,” you told her.

“That’s so lucky. I’d love to work around a bunch of hot athletes,” she said, and you choked a little on your drink, causing Quinn to grin.

“Yeah, she is lucky,” he teased, and you shot him the finger. The rest of dinner went smoothly. You had a couple more glasses of wine before slowly following the group outside as Paul got the fire going. It was chilly, and you regretted already not having brought your heavier coat.

Quinn was already sitting back in one of the outdoor chairs, watching you as you got closer.

“Cold princess?” He asked as you got closer and you crossed your arms shaking your head.

“I’m fine,” you said but shivered involuntarily, causing him to give you a teasing smile.

“Come sit in my lap,” he said and you gave him a death glare.

“I’m not sitting in your lap,” you said and he smirked looking around.

“Where else are you going to sit?”

Sure enough, Rachel had invited more people than usual, and there were actually no seats open. You held your head high, determined not to show him his effect on you, and you moved closer to him. His eyes widened as you sat down on his lap, and he set down his beer next to him so that he could adjust you into him.

Rachel was grinning widely at you from the next chair over and you ignored it, just jumping in to ask her about work. You chatted with Rachel for a while, enjoying the warmth Quinn provided with his arms wrapped around you. She got pulled into another conversation and you turned your attention to Quinn.

“You’re being quiet,” you said and he gave you a small smile.

“I’m enjoying the peacefulness,” he said and you smiled. “Still cold?”

“A little,” you replied and he shifted so you could lean into his chest. His head rested on top of yours. “Better.”

“Good,” he hummed. You watched the fire for a little bit before shifting again to get comfortable.

“Stop moving,” Quinn rasped and you moved again to look up at him, earning a small groan. You were about to ask what was wrong but you felt it. He gave you a pointed look as you smirked, feeling him hard underneath you.

“What’s wrong Huggy?” You teased as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t be a tease,” he grunted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered. Looking around to see everyone engrossed in their own conversations, you smirked before resting your head on his shoulder for a second, bringing your lips to his neck, and nipping at the skin.

Quinn lifted you off his lap, standing up with his hand holding onto yours tightly.

“I think we’re going to head out,” he told Rachel and Paul. Rachel looked at you knowingly and stood up to hug you goodbye. You said goodbye to some other friends before following Quinn through the house and back out towards your car.

The car was filled with a charged silence as you and Quinn sat next to each other, both knowing what was about to happen.

You broke the stillness by casually asking, "Your place or mine?" Quinn's eyes flickered down to your lips, and without a word, he leaned over the console and grabbed the side of your head, pulling you closer to him. His lips met yours in a fiery kiss, his breath mingling with yours as he punished you for your teasing at the bonfire earlier. Your body responded eagerly, melting into his touch as you whimpered into the kiss. A small smirk tugged at Quinn's lips before he pulled back, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“Your place as long as this isn’t a one-time thing,” he said and your eyes widened as you caught your breath.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I don’t do one-night stands,” he said simply and you tried to understand his words.

“So you want to hook up more than once,” you said, and he chuckled, looking at you in amusement.

"Forget just hooking up, princess. I want to take you out on real dates. I want to be by your side constantly. I need to see you outside of work, in every moment possible," he declared, his words igniting a fiery passion in your heart.

“But it’s really not allowed,” you said, shoulders sagging.

“There is no rule against it,” he countered and you sat back thoughtfully.

“Fine,” you agreed and he smiled. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“I’d be insane not to like you,” he said and you pressed your lips to his again, softer this time.

You were nervous as you made the drive to your apartment. Quinn was quiet in the seat next to you, but his hand on your thigh assured you that he wanted this. He followed you out of the garage and up to your apartment, taking in the cozy space that was so you.

After throwing your keys on the counter and taking your jacket off you stood facing him wanting him to make the next move. He eyed you slowly before coming towards you, raising his hand to hold the side of your head.

“Are you sure?” He whispered and you hummed in agreement. That was all it took and his lips were on yours, his other hand pulling your hips into him. His lips moved harshly against yours, nipping at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp.

Hands finding your ass, he lifted you up, letting you wrap your legs around him as he carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down gently, without breaking the kiss, hovering over your body.

Quinn's hands roamed your body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. You arched into him, craving more contact. He broke away to trail kisses down your neck, sucking gently at your pulse point.

"Quinn," you breathed, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured.

You blushed at his words, pulling him back down to capture his lips again. Your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his abs. Quinn groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips against yours.

Sitting up slightly, he tugged off his shirt before helping you remove yours. His eyes roamed your newly exposed skin hungrily.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked again, his voice husky.

You nodded, pulling him back down to you. "I'm sure," you whispered against his lips.

Quinn's hands skimmed down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He unclasped your bra, tossing it aside before cupping your breasts. You gasped as his thumbs brushed over your nipples.

"You're so responsive," he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck to your chest.

His mouth replaced his hands, tongue swirling around one nipple as his fingers teased the other. You arched into him, hands fisting in his hair as pleasure coursed through you.

Quinn continued his path downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach. He looked up at you as he unbuttoned your jeans, silently asking permission. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your thong.

Quinn's eyes roamed over your now fully nude form, a look of awe on his face. "You're incredible," he breathed.

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, his stubble creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin. When he reached your center, he placed a gentle kiss there before slowly running his tongue along your folds.

You gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. Quinn gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his attention. His tongue circled your clit before sucking it into his mouth, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"Quinn, please," you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for.

He slid a finger inside you, curling it to hit that spot that made you see stars. Adding a second finger, he pumped them in and out in tandem with the movements of his tongue.

“Fuck Quinn I’m gonna cum,” you whined out and he increased his pace. Your hands were gripping the sheets on either side of you and you struggled in his hold as your orgasm washed over you. He cleaned you up before coming back up to kiss your lips.

Quinn kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh through his jeans. Reaching down, you palmed him through the fabric, causing him to groan into your mouth.

"These need to come off," you murmured, tugging at his waistband.

Quinn quickly shed his remaining clothes, kicking them off the bed. Your eyes roamed his now naked form appreciatively. He was all lean muscle, his body honed from years of hockey.

"Like what you see?" he asked with a smirk.

"Very much," you replied, pulling him back down to you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his length slide against your wet folds. Quinn reached between your bodies, lining himself up at your entrance. He paused, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked one final time and you nodded, gasping as he pushed into you. “Fuck princess, you’re so tight.”

Quinn stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. You rolled your hips, signaling him to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, gradually building up speed.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Quinn quickened his pace, his hips slamming into yours. You could feel your climax building, the pressure coiling in your belly.

Suddenly, Quinn changed positions, pulling you on top of him and sitting up against the headboard. He held onto your hips as you rode him, setting a pace that had both of you panting.

You leaned back, hands on his thighs for support as you tilted your hips to hit that spot inside you again and again. Quinn's fingers dug into your skin as he watched you pleasure yourself on him.

"You look so fucking beautiful like this," he groaned, and it pushed you over the edge.

You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you once again, Quinn following soon after with a loud groan.

You lay there, panting and tangled in each other’s arms. Quinn pressed kisses along your neck and jaw, before pulling out of you.

"That was incredible," he said, flopping down beside you.

"Mhmm," you agreed, snuggling into his side.

“I was being serious about what I said earlier,” he said and you looked up to him. “I want all of you.”

“Then you can have me,” you said leaning up to kiss him.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine

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nonerrata-myarchives · 2 days ago

Note

HEYYYYYY

can i req a lyrason fanfic?

pretty pleaseeeeeeee

Grayson and Lyra. ♡ One Shot.

Bedfic. Ummm. 1173 words.. shit.

The room was bathed softly in the early morning light, streaks of pale gold and sovereign blue spilling through the half-drawn lavish curtains. Outside, the world stirred awake, a faint hum of life whispering through the silence, but inside, it was warm and still. The sheets were tangled, the duvet half-kicked away, evidence of a restless night. Lyra Catalina Kane blinked herself awake, the weight of exhaustion settling into her already tired bones.

Grayson lay beside her, his face pale except for the feverish flush high on his cheeks. Even in sickness, he carried an air of unshakable perfection though the deep blooming plum beneath his eyes told a different story. She reached out instinctively, her hand brushing his damp forehead. Still hot. Way too fucking hot. He still hadn’t shaken the fever that had gripped him yesterday, and now it was spilling into today like a deep brooding thunder refusing to go.

She sighed, quietly, carefully, and shifted to slide out of bed. There was too much to do.

The world didn’t stop for anything, not even for Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. But the moment she moved, his arm tightened around her waist like a vice. Unwilling and utterly unyielding.

“Grayson,” she murmured softly, her voice still rough with sleep. She twisted to glance back at him, but his eyes were shut, his brow furrowed as if even in his fevered haze, he was waging some internal war. His lips moved, words too faint to catch, but even so he buried his face in her neck, his breath warm and uneven against her skin.

“Don’t sweetheart,” he rasped, the word dragging out of him like it cost more than it should. His voice was hoarse, cracked, stripped of its usual authority, and hearing it made something sharp twist in Lyra’s chest.

“Grayson,” she tried again, gently, this time reaching for his hand where it clung to her hip. But he didn’t let go. If anything, he held her tighter, his rough fingers digging into the soft fabric of her shirt like a drowning man clutching at the only thing keeping him afloat.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled into her neck. His voice was low, desperate, and foreign in its vulnerability. Grayson Hawthorne never asked. He commanded, he directed, he ensured things happened exactly as they were meant to. But this wasn’t that man.

Her heart cracked open, a slow ache spreading through her chest. “Gray,” she whispered, turning fully to face him now, her body shifting under his unrelenting hold. His eyes flickered open, heavy-lidded and glassy, the stormy gray of them dulled but still searching, still fixed entirely on her.

“Stay,” he said, barely audible. His voice cracked at the end, and the sound of it nearly broke her. “Just please just stay.”

Lyra exhaled, her resistance crumbling in an instant. “I’m not going far,” she promised, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. His skin was still so damn warm. but he leaned into her touch as though it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

“You’ll leave,” he murmured, his breath catching on the last word. His arm tightened again, pulling her somewhat impossibly closer, until she was pressed against him completely, her legs tangled with his. “You’ll leave, and I—” He broke off, his face pressing into the crook of her neck like he couldn't nor wanted to finish that sentence. As if it would break him.

She had never seen him like this. In the thee years she had known the asshole she had never seen him so fucking desperate.

Lyra let out a slow breath, her hand slipping into his damp hair, fingers threading through the thick mess. “I’m here,” she said softly, the words barely more than a whisper. “I’m not going anywhere, Gray.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her. He had held her so tight she couldn't move. Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, the arrogant asshole was undone. Though right now he was just Gray, her Gray, and he needed her. And she wouldn't leave

“Lyra,” he breathed, her name a soft exhale against her neck. His voice was weaker now, but there was a reverence in the way he said it, a quiet plea wrapped in too much emotion. “I can’t—” He stopped again, the words choking off.

“You don’t have to,” she said, her hand sliding down to his back, holding him as close as he held her. “You don’t have to say anything.” She kissed the top of his head, her lips brushing against the damp strands of his hair. It smelled like foreign berries “I’m here.”

He shuddered, a shaky exhale escaping him as he buried himself deeper against her. For all his strength, all his unrelenting willpower, he melted into her like he couldn’t stand to be anywhere else. His fingers splayed against her side, anchoring him to her, and she felt the faintest tremor in his grip.

“Fuck being busy,” he muttered, the words muffled but laced with a quiet, fevered determination. His hand slid up to her back, his fingertips pressing into her as though to make sure she was real, that she wasn’t going to slip away the moment he loosened his hold. “Just stay, sweetheart. Please.”

“I’ll stay,” she whispered, her voice thick with the weight of her own emotions. “I’m not going anywhere, Gray. I promise.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, she thought he might cry, but he just held her tighter, his face pressed against her neck. “Good,” he murmured, his voice cracking again. A different type of crack though.. one that meant something.

Minutes stretched into eternity as they lay there, tangled together in the warmth of their bed. The world outside could wait. The demands, the responsibilities, the endless push and pull of their lives—it could all wait. He needed her.

She stroked his hair more her fingers moving in slow, delicate patterns, and felt the tension in his body gradually ease. His breathing evened out, though it was still slightly labored, and she pressed another kiss to his head, murmuring soft reassurances into the quiet.

“I love you,” she said, the words soft but steady. She didn’t expect him to answer—he was too far gone, too fever-drunk and exhausted—but his arm tightened around her once more, and she felt his lips brush faintly against her collarbone.

“Love you,” he mumbled, the words slurred but heartfelt, and Lyra’s heart thumbed, the ache in her chest giving way to something warmer, something brighter. Something so exquisite she couldn't put words on it.

-----------------------------------------------

Not proof read. I'll edit just now.. I'm sorry it's shit y'all.

#the inheritance games #the grandest game #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #lyra kane #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #is it mentally ok to be this obsessed with tgg?

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emotionoitme · 13 hours ago

Text

i didn't know (2)

i didn't know - skinshape

this is the second post for this chapter because of tumblr's block limit. read the first one here

“this one?” she holds up a silky black fabric, “or…this one?” it looks the same, but red.

he stares at the options blankly for a second.

“i, uh…the red one?” he answers cluelessly. either way he’s gonna wanna rip it off of her the second she puts it on.

she gives him a look to elaborate.

“i don’t know,” he sighs, “you could wear a garbage bag to dinner and look good.”

“oh, that would be cute,” she rolls her eyes, setting the options back down on the bed.

it was one of those rare days where carmen had taken off work to relax, sprawled out on her bed—shirtless with unruly curls.

“try ‘em on for me,” he suggests, folding his arms behind his head.

her eyes dart to the bulge of his biceps, his armpit hair, having absolutely no idea why the sight is so enticing.

“mkay,” she smiles, pulling the hem of her borrowed shirt up over her head, revealing nothing besides panties underneath.

“fuck,” he groans, enunciating the word sharply, graciously taking in the sight in front of him. “come over here.”

this puts a grin on her face. no matter how many times she does it, he always has the same reaction. she begins to saunter over to his side of the bed, watching how he tilts his chin up like he’s expecting a kiss.

“i could just wear this tonight,” she suggests, trailing her finger over his jaw.

he gives a hum of approval. “except we wouldn’t leave the house,” caressing her hip gently.

“we could have a night in,” she suggests. he shakes his head.

“we always do. i wanna take you out.”

“yeah?” she leans in, placing a gentle kiss to his lips, “you gonna wine and dine me?”

“mhm. give me a real kiss.”

she giggles and leans back in again, giving him another soft, barely-there peck before pulling away again. he tightens his jaw and snaps the band of her panties, making her release a small yelp.

“more,” he demands.

“so needy,” she teases, tracing her finger over his lip, catching the bottom one and pushing it down to show his teeth. she loves using his own words against him.

“fuck off,” he laughs, turning his head away.

“i’ll give you a real one on our date.”

“i have to wait that long?”

“mhm,” she picks up the black dress and walks in front of the mirror, holding it in front of her body, “you can work on your self restraint.”

“i have plenty of self restraint,” he argues, sitting up onto his forearms.

“yeah right,” she slips into the fabric and threads her arms through the straps.

“oh, and you do? you came onto me within the first month of living here.”

“i would’ve done it earlier if you were home more often,” she admits unashamedly. “what do you think? cute?” turning so he could see the front of the dress.

“you-,” he stops in his tracks, eyes flickering over the way the fabric hugs her figure, “i wouldn’t say cute.” hot is more fitting, “but yeah, i like it.”

she rolls her eyes, and slips the straps back down her shoulders.

“but y’know that means you have less self restraint than me, right?” he asks, revisiting the disagreement, “because i was gonna keep it…professional.”

“professional, my ass. i saw the way you would look at me when i first moved in.”

“wh-how would i look at you?”

“how you’re looking at me right now.”

oh. his eyes snap back up to her face, having been caught red handed. it’s not his fault she looks good. and after all, he is just a man.

she turns away from him and shimmies the dress down her hips.

“okay. fine,” he concedes, craning his neck to watch her breasts in the mirror, “but i did restrain myself.”

“please,” she scoffs, “i had you wrapped around my finger the second i got here.” she turns back to him, and watches his eyes flicker down her body, then back up.

he takes a moment to respond, a look of contemplation on his face. she wasn’t wrong, at all. but he still felt the need to contest.

“tell you what,” he sits up, “we can put it to the test.”

she gives him a questioning look, tilting her head to the side.

“no touching. no kissing…first one to break loses.” he has a smug smirk on his face.

“you’re not funny,” she says, unamused.

“i’m being serious. you say i don’t have restraint, but i know you don’t.”

“you’re gonna eat those words. i’m gonna kick your ass at this game,” she retorts.

“yeah?”

“mhm. winner gets head.”

“fine by me,” he nods. either way, he’ll win.

“i’m still gonna hold your hand tonight, though.” she pouts.

“yeah. we’ll just keep it uh…PG.”

she snorts out a laugh at this. “PG?”

“mhm.” he nods. “family friendly.”

“okay. well get out of my room then. cause i kind of wanna pounce on you.”

carmen lets out a soft laugh. this was going to be an easy game.

…or so he thought.

up until the moment she came down the stairs in that fucking red dress.

it hugs her curves like a glove, dawning dainty straps and a plunging neckline. his brain actually stutters for a moment watching her descend the stairs, just silently staring at her with eyes wide as saucers.

a grin forms on the girl’s face at his stunned expression. she put the dress on expecting a reaction, but wasn’t expecting speechless.

“jesus christ,” is the first thing that exits his mouth, and it comes out strained.

“you like it?” she asks, giving a slow turn so he could admire it at every angle.

“it’s-yeah…you look…amazing.”

“bet you wanna touch, huh?” she teases with a grin on her face.

“i’m-yeah. fuck yeah, i do.” he exhales, standing from the couch, walking closer to her.

“well, you can,” she reaches forward to straighten out his suit jacket, “if you keep it PG.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this, placing a hand on her hip, stroking his thumb against her. he studies her face. the way she’s done her makeup is classy and light. she’s wearing a red lipstick that makes him wonder what it would look like smeared across her face.

“what’s up with your tie?” she asks, breaking him out of his trance. she’s furrowing her brows at the knot.

“oh, i, uh…i can’t really tie one,” he admits bashfully. “i’ll do it for you,” she gives him a soft smile and reaches to undo the knot.

the way her fingers brush against his neck leaves his skin feeling hot.

like most things between them recently, it feels very domestic, having her tie his tie. he can’t stop staring at her as she does it, either, transfixed with the way she’s all dolled up for him.

“there,” she loops the knot, and pushes it up to tighten, “very handsome.” her hand comes to the side of his face, and she strokes her thumb over his jaw. the way their eyes lock feel more intimate than carmen expects, feeling as if he’s baring his soul under her gaze. he wants to kiss her so bad, inwardly cursing his juvenile challenge he posed hours ago. cursing the fantasies that flood his mind of keeping her at home—providing for her, having her tie his ties and pack his lunches and have his babies. cursing the cruel way in which the world seems to rip away all that brings him joy.

“you, uh…ready to go?” he clears his throat, pulling away from her, turning his head to hide a pained expression.

“yeah. let me just grab my wallet.”

“leave it,” he commands, “you won’t need it.”

a slight look of surprise forms on her face, morphing into a smile as the implication seeps in.

“just wait for a second,” she turns to walk to the stairs, “it’s on my nightstand.”

carmen grabs her wrist with a “hey,” stopping the girl in her tracks.

“what did i just say?” he chides lowly. “leave it. let’s go.”

she turns to face him, taking in his serious expression. stern and handsome—it makes her want to push. but she figures she can save it for later, after she wins.

“yes sir,” she responds, gazing up at him endearingly.

he’s almost a little surprised at her obedience. feels himself puff up a little at the name.

without another word, he opens the door and offers his arm. she takes it happily.

the entire date ends up being a lot fancier than she ever would have expected.

carmen had explained to her, as they rode in the back of the private car he had ordered, that he wanted to make tonight really special. partially to make up for the fact that he hadn’t been gentlemanly enough to take her out on a proper date before tonight, but mostly just because he wanted to spoil her with some good food before she leaves.

“now, uh…i know you said you didn’t wanna go to my restaurant. but i was thinking we could just stop in so you could see it.”

“n-no, i do wanna go,” she asserts quickly, “i’d love to see it. i was just a little…embarrassed.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this.

“you don’t need to be. i’ll get us a private table and everything.” he nods, reaching over to rest a hand on her thigh. “no one will bother us.”

“yeah?” it sounds promising.

“yeah, baby. i’ll take care of it.”

he pulls out his phone to make a call.

it makes her stomach flutter a little bit.

when they arrive, she’s a bit taken aback by the bear. she already knew it was a nice place—though she wasn’t expecting the type of michelin star dining that leaves people speechless.

they’re seated the moment they walk in, and escorted to a table near the back of the restaurant, slightly hidden by the thick foliage of a potted plant.

carmen pulls her chair out for her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before sitting down across from her.

“this is…it’s beautiful in here, carm.”

“yeah?” he can’t help the boost her words give him, looking around a bit, “you think so?”

“it’s incredible,” she nods, “i had no idea it would be so fancy.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this, placing his hand atop hers. he goes to thank her, but is interrupted by the greeting of their waitress.

the girl smiles in reply, feeling bad for the clearly nervous employee that has to serve the big boss.

they order signature cocktails that cost so much the prices aren’t even listed on the menu. she supposes this follows the premise that if you have to ask for the price of something, you can’t afford it. it makes her grateful for her wallet left atop the nightstand.

“what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you’re back home?” he asks, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered. it’s easier to talk about when he’s not thinking about how soon it’ll be a reality.

“go to the beach,” she responds quietly, after a moment, “and get in the water. even if it’s freezing cold.”

“yeah?” a smile forms on his face at the mental image.

“yeah, i uh…like chicago. but i really do miss home. and i miss my friends.”

“totally.” he gives her a knowing nod.

“carmy, do you-” she sighs, fidgeting with her ring, “can i call you? when i’m back?”

“you fuckin’ better.” he responds quickly.

the girl smiles at the sternness of his response, and reaches out to touch his hand.

“okay,” she nods, “good. cause i’m gonna miss you.”

“yeah, it’s…it’s not gonna be easy.” understatement of the year. “it’ll work out though. i’ll come visit you or somethin’.”

and despite the weight of the circumstances, she smiles at this, and brings his hand up to her lips, placing a slow, tender kiss to the side of it. just wanting to show her appreciation. “you’d like it, i think. it’s really different from here.”

“yeah?”

“mhm. and my friends would freak meeting you.”

“why’s that?” he raises his eyebrows.

“cause i mean, look at you. i’d probably have to fight them off.”

carmen lets out a soft laugh at this, shaking his head in disbelief. “y’know, i’ve thought the same thing about you? just wanna keep you to myself.”

she smiles, and moves from kissing his hand to kissing his fingers.

carmen rests his thumb on her cheek, tightening his jaw as she moves onto his middle finger. how she places another kiss, pressing her lips to him, holding his wrist gently and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

the sight is kind of erotic.

“you, uh…” he clears his throat, shuffling forward in his seat, “you giving up on our game?”

“no,” she has this innocent look on her face, like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing, “this is PG.” carmy feels the immense urge to shove his fingers in her mouth and make her suck.

“nothing about that is… stop,” he grunts as she softly bites him. it’s clear that she’s trying to get him to fold. and she’s right on track so far.

“fine. you’re no fun.” she pouts, releasing his hand and sitting straight.

“i’m not gonna lose to you.”

“yes you are,” she smiles, resting her chin in her hand.

his eyes flicker down to the strain of her breasts against the neckline of the dress. maybe he is.

“nah.” he shakes his head. “no way.”

her gaze roams over him, and she bites at her lip.

“well i might. you look so slutty in that suit.”

“i-…what?”

“you heard me.”

“i look…slutty?” there’s a perplexed expression on his face.

“super slutty. you’re so getting it when we’re home.”

“jesus,” he exhales a laugh, averting his eyes from her face, “you drunk off that one cocktail?”

“no!” she smiles, rolling her eyes. “i just thought you’d wanna know. i can't stop looking at you. you’re giving me dirty thoughts.”

he meets her eyes again with a smile, and puts his hand flat on the table, reaching out for her. when she gives him her hand, he glances at the red nail polish adorning her fingers.

“i, uh… i can't stop looking at you either.” he runs his thumb over her skin. “i’m…crazy about you. you know that, right?”

“i know,” she purrs, softly raking her nails over his skin softly, looking at him through her eyelashes.

it him feel a little feral. he takes a deep breath in through his nose.

“so, you can give up on this stupid challenge already?” his tone is low.

“no way,” she pouts, “i want my prize.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. and don’t forget this was your idea in the first place.”

he goes to defend himself when he’s cut off by a familiar chuckle.

“well, shit, welcome back!”

the girl freezes, staring straight ahead at carmen. the voice is easily recognizable. she hesitantly turns her head to put the name to a face.

“richie,” carmen greets unenthusiastically, giving him a small nod.

“you just can’t get enough of us or what?” richie chuckles, glancing at the girl quickly. he does kind of a double take, snapping his head back to her with wide eyes.

she sheepishly meets his gaze, trying to not crumble under the intense look he’s giving her.

“this is, uh…” carmen narrows his eyes at the man, “this is my girlfriend, -” he introduces her name.

richie blinks slowly, like he’s trying to process, repeating her name. testing how it feels in his mouth.

“uh, nice to-…nice to meet you. i’m richie.” he thrusts his hand forward.

“nice to meet you, richie,” she smiles, giving him a gentle shake. this is the most intense eye contact she’s experienced in a while. the silence is tense, and he’s staring at her with this perplexed admiration.

“you’re…wow,” richie chuckes, “do you have an older sister or something?”

“jesus christ, richie! go fuck off back to the front you asshole,” carmen snaps, face growing slightly red. “hey, i’m sorry about him,” richie apologizes to the girl, “he forgets that this is a nice establishment where we don’t use crass language.” his eyebrows are raised as he smooths his jacket.

she opens her mouth to respond, but carmy’s scolding cuts her off, snapping at the man to go do his job and “stop fucking around”.

“hey, i just wanted to come introduce myself to your lovely date,” richie puts his hands up in defense, “can i get you anything else, sweetheart?” he asks the girl, “you want another one of those?” pointing to her cocktail.

“maybe after dinner, thank you,” she responds politely.

“ahh okay, i like the manners! you could teach your little boyfriend over here a thing or two.”

the man has a goofy charm about him, and although carmen is getting more irate by the second, she’s amused.

“i’m trying. but he’s kind of stubborn.” her eyes flicker over to carmen, giving him a playful smile. his frown softens at this.

“ha! don’t i know it! last week he-”

“richie,” carmy interrupts, “can you go check on our order?”

“carm,” the girl groans. they didn’t place their order yet. he gives her a pleading look to just go along with it.

and whether it’s the use of his nickname or the intonation of her voice, this look of recognition washes over richie’s face and his eyes widen. he looks at carmy, then back at her. a laugh bubbles out, and he slaps a hand over his mouth, clearing this throat. his face is red.

the girl almost dies of embarrassment on the spot, knowing exactly which dots are connecting in his head.

“okay! yeah. well. nice meeting you. i’m just gonna…” he gestures behind him, backing away with a stifled grin on his face.

when she looks back at carmen, his head is in his hand and his eyes are tightly shut. when richie is out of sight and he finally looks back up to her, there’s a pained looked on his face.

“i’m-…jesus christ, i'm sorry about that.” he exhales.

the girl feels dumbfounded by the situation, and doesn’t know what to say.

she tries to keep it in, but bursts into giggles. there’s a brief look of surprise on the man’s face which forms into a small smile. he’s giving her the kind of bewildered look that says “i’m glad you found that funny because i was about 3 seconds away from getting physical”.

she rests her head in her hand, trying to take deep breaths and stop her laughing. it doesn’t really work.

carmy’s expression of bewilderment softens and he begins to grin watching her.

she finally gets control over herself and straightens, huge smile on her red face, wiping a stray tear from her eye with a big sigh.

carmen thinks it’s probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. and there’s this sharp pain in his chest that feels like love but also like loss. like he’s discovered this secret to life that’s about to be stolen and never given back.

his thoughts are interrupted by their waitress setting plates down in front of them. she introduces the dish, and tells them that chef sydney plated it specially for them.

the girl has a big smile on her face, as she raves about how nice everything is, but carmy can’t help but feel a bit sad for the rest of the night.

they return home hand in hand. the chill november air smells crisp like winter. leaves in the gutters rustle with the gentle breeze.

as they walk from the car, she wraps her arm around his and leans in, resting her head on him for a moment.

he turns his head and smiles at her.

“i don’t know if i ever told you this…but uh,” he glances over her face, “you’re really beautiful.”

“thank you, carmy” her soft smile grows, “i think you have told me.”

“not enough.” he’s kind of in a trance, pace slowing as he watches her face. she giggles and pulls him forward to the entrance.

the doorman of their building lets the two in, giving a small smile watching the young lovers laugh, that gleam of infatuation shining bright over their faces.

as the elevator doors close, and she turns to face him, their laughs slowly cease. they stare at each other intently.

“stop doin’ that” he mutters lowly.

“doing what?”

“you keep looking at my lips.”

“i really want to kiss you.” she bites at her lip, eyes fluttering as she keeps staring.

carmy exhales harshly at this, clenching his fists to keep his hands to himself.

she leans forward, bringing her face closer to his. he smells so fucking good, looks so handsome in his suit, she’s tempted to just tear him apart with her teeth.

“do it,” he challenges quietly, their lips so close.

she almost gives up on the challenge, leaning just a little closer, then-

ding

saved by the bell, literally. the elevator doors open to their floor.

she gasps softly at the noise, pulling away from him, face feeling hot, core tingling.

she had complained earlier, but this challenge is fun.

they hurriedly make their way to the door of their unit.

the girl stumbles in her heels and almost face plants, but carmy catches her, wrapping an arm around her waist and preventing her from falling.

without warning, he hoists her up, trying to throw her over his shoulder.

“carmy!” she yelps, “put me down!” secretly hoping he doesn’t.

he hoists her up some more, and she folds over his shoulder, dangling upside down, laughing harder than she has in a long time.

“you’re too clumsy,” he teases, hand securely gripping onto the back of her thigh, walking them the last 20 feet to their door. with his free hand he retrieves his keys, unlocks the door and nudges it open.

he only puts her down once the door is closed behind him, and she wobbles on her feet when he does so, gripping onto his arms for stability.

her face is rosy from the blood rushing to her head, and she has a girlish smile on her face as she looks up at him.

“you’re strong.”

he just smiles softly, gazing down at her.

“can you make me another one of those moscow mules?”

“yes, chef!” she returns, kicking off her heels and walking towards the kitchen.

he runs a hand through his hair, sighing longingly, and follows, sitting on one of the barstools opposite the counter where she stands.

“put on some music?” she asks softly, turning on the kitchen speaker.

“what do you want me to play?” he opens his bluetooth and connects.

“i dunno. something romantic.” the girl has a sweet smile on her face, measuring out the vodka for his drink.

he shuffles an oldies playlist—the songs from the 1940s/1950s that sound like real love. like loving and being loved unconditionally. like settling down and coming home to each other every day.

“good choice,” she compliments, cracking open a ginger beer. “i love this kind of music.” a frank sinatra song plays softly.

“me too. it’s kind of nostalgic.” he thinks of the old black and white movies he would watch with his mom.

“here,” she hands him the cold drink, garnished with mint and lime.

“thank you,” he has a small smile on his face, taking a sip. it’s bubbly and refreshing.

she clicks the speaker up a few notches, and hums along, putting away all of the drink materials.

carmen loves the sound of it.

the girl saunters over to him and perches herself on his lap, hand circling behind his neck.

his arm wraps around her back as she steals his drink to take a sip.

“good, huh?” he praises, dragging his thumb along the fabric of her dress.

“it’s okay,” she sets the cup down, “not as good as the michelin star cocktail i had earlier.”

“i disagree.”

“oh really?” she has this smile of disbelief.

“mhm. this could be award winning, easily.”

“you’re just saying that.”

“no. m’serious.” his hand rests on her knee, and he rubs it along her leg softly.

she just smiles at this, and leans in to pepper kisses along his cheek and jaw. the first song fades into the next.

“wanna dance?” she smiles against his skin.

“dance?”

“yeah. slow dance with me.”

“i, uh… i don’t know how.”

“what do you mean you don’t know how?” she giggles, standing up from his lap. “come here.”

he slowly joins her in the living room, a bashful expression on his face. he’s never been able to dance. it’s always made him feel stupid. but even so, he approaches.

this love of mine goes on and on.

she takes his hand and gently puts one on her waist, holding the other. she loops her other arm around his neck. carmy finds his nerves are almost immediately eased.

they sway gently. the light is low and an ella fitzgerald song resonates through the room. it’s slow, and kind of sad. but still romantic.

though life is empty since you’ve been gone.

carmen closes his eyes and rests his forehead on hers, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly sentimental.

his arms wrap around her further, and he pulls her closer. the music has an old fashioned grainy sound to it that makes it sound sweet.

she leans in to kiss his neck, chest pressed flush against his. she feels a surge of warmth throughout her chest. feeling grateful. relishing the moment. resting her head against him.

the two just sway gently, taking light steps ever so often.

it almost felt as if they were playing pretend—both dressed in their nicest clothes, tipsy off of $20 cocktails, swaying to the romantic music. pretending the end isn’t in sight.

i ask the sun and the moon. the stars that shine.

he pulls back to get another look at her face. tries to ignore the way his throat tightens.

what’s to become of it, this love of mine?

the girl’s gaze is longingly fixed on his handsome face.

“i really did have a wonderful time tonight,” she whispers.

he gives her a smile, but it looks kind of sad.

“i’m glad.”

“i don’t really know how to say this, but…” she drops his hand and wraps both arms around his neck, getting a bit closer, “i…i’m really happy i met you.”

he releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, eyes flickering over her face. he really wants to kiss her.

“i-…you know i’m never gonna be able to stop thinking about you?”

“i know, carm. i won’t either.” she hates how sad he looks. “but it’ll get easier, yeah?”

“yeah.” it’s gotta be the biggest lie he’s ever told someone.

“i love you, you know?” her confession comes as a whisper.

“i know, baby,” his tone is low, and he tightens his grip on her hips, like he’s afraid of her disappearing, “i love you too.”

what’s to become of it, this love of mine?

the song fades out slowly, and for some reason the music stops all together. the silence is thick, and the two lovers stare at each other with a palpable tension.

her eyes dart down to his lips.

“i um…i think i give up.” she whispers.

his brows furrow. before he can ask her what she means, the girl leans in and presses a firm, sweet kiss to his lips. and as innocent as the gesture is, it makes the air feel hot. makes it feel heavy. gives him goosebumps all over his arms. makes him groan.

almost instantly, carmen grabs the back of her head and pulls her against his lips, desperate to get more. he really does try to match her slow pace but he just needs it. he slips his tongue into her mouth, not even realizing how bad he needs it until he tastes her.

the girl reciprocates for a moment, a small smile forming at the unexpected ferocity. her hands come to his chest and she eases herself away from him, feeling him chase her lips.

“slow down,” she teases, helping to alleviate some of his hunger with a gentle kiss, a small grin on her face.

she’s really good at using his words against him, he thinks to himself.

“you look pretty,” the girl says in a low tone, eyes raking over the lipstick she’s left smudged over his pouty, swollen lips. slutty is probably the more accurate term.

“pr-…what?” his brain stutters.

the girl swipes her thumb over his lips and shows him the red stain, before leaning forward to pepper gentle kisses along his cheek, jaw, down to his neck.

it surprises carmen when she keeps moving downwards, threading her fingers into his tie and loosening the knot, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin she can find. she moves eagerly, but gently—really savoring the way he tenses and shudders from the light touches. this time feeling as if she holds the power.

the girl drops to her knees, smiling up at his look of wide-eyed shock as she fumbles with the buckle of his belt.

“w-what are you doing?” he rasps, clearing his throat.

“what do you mean?” she’s looking up at him innocently, slowly undoing his button and zipper.

“you, uh…you don’t have to.” he’s fixated on how pretty she looks down on her knees for him, “i know we made that bet, but if you don’t want to,-”

she pulls his briefs down to expose his cock and cuts him off with a breathy moan. it springs from confinement, tip red and throbbing. the sight alone is enough to send heat pooling between her legs, and she hungrily dives forward to lick a single stripe up the side of it.

carmen lets out a low groan, still surprised by how enthusiastically she dove to her knees—her droopy eyes, the satisfied grin on her face looking up at him—it’s as if she didn’t even care about the challenge. like it’s prize enough just to please him.

the girl softly grips his cock, leaning in and planting kisses teasingly along the length of it. making her way to the tip. it twitches in her hand. she flattens her tongue against the head of his cock and just pauses there for a second, looking up at his twisted brows and red cheeks with an amused expression. trying to gauge him.

carmen intently watches her—pink tongue, manicured nails, looking up at him through her lashes. he lets out a guttural groan when she swirls her tongue around the head of his cock.

the girl takes a breath and dives forward to take him into her mouth.

“jesus.” his hand comes to card through her hair, pushing it out of her way as she hungrily takes him in.

he’s thick and heavy in her mouth. she gives a few bobs of her head, coating him in her saliva, trying to find what makes him tick. tasting his distinct flavor and pressing her thighs together to try and chase some relief.

“fuck, that’s-,” he exhales sharply as she moves her head up and down the length of his shaft, saliva coating his skin, beginning to stick to his pubic hair, “that’s good. keep doin’ that.” it’s more of a plea than a command.

she doesn’t, though, instead easing her mouth from his cock, watching as a string of spit connects them as she pulls back with a soft giggle.

he knows he’s completely fucked for her when his erection twitches at the noise. he rakes his eyes over her flushed face and chest. the way her lipstick is smudged across her spit-glossed lips.

“keep doing what?” she asks teasingly.

“you-…stop fuckin’ playing with me,” he rasps exasperatedly.

the girl smiles at his tone, and leans forward to give gentle kitten-like licks over his throbbing head.

“m’not-” a kiss, “playing with you, carmy,” another kiss, “i’m just…enjoying myself.” she gently jerks the length of him, opening her mouth, bumping him against her tongue with every few strokes. she finds herself getting aroused trying to push his buttons like this.

“you’re-mmh…you’re gonna fuckin’ get it if you don’t stop.”

“you want me to stop?” she asks sweetly, “okay.” she drops her hand and sits back on her heels, watching as his erection bobs up and down.

carmen’s gaze darkens, jaw clenched.

“you-…” he scoffs, “i can see right through what you’re doing.”

“oh yeah?” she tests, “what am i doing?”

“you’re trying to get me to get rough with you.”

bingo. she kind of wants a face fucking.

“no i’m not.” the girl bites at her lip unconvincingly.

“yes you are. and i'm not going to.”

“wha-why?” she pouts, scooting closer to him. his cock brushes against her cheek.

“not like this. i don’t wanna hurt you.” he reaches forward to brush a piece of hair behind her ear, letting his hand trail over her face.

“you won’t,” she whines, eyes darting between his face and his raging erection. it’s big, so maybe he will. but she doesn’t care. “i can take it.”

“you like to argue,” he grumbles, taking ahold of her face, squeezing her cheeks together slightly. she looks so cute like this.

“carm,” she whines, “i can take it. promise i can. please?”

carmen releases her face, trailing his hand behind her head and gripping her hair. with his other hand he fists his cock and gently eases it forward, rubbing the tip against her slick, pouty lips.

“open,” his tone is low, and he slowly pushes himself into her mouth when she complies. he goes until he feels restriction, and pulls back.

the girl lets out a sound of disagreement at this.

“hey.” carmen chides firmly, “you’re gonna take what i fuckin’ give you.” he watches the way her eyelids flutter at his stern tone. the way she shifts her body overtop her heel.

the girl lets a sigh out through her nose and tries to exercise patience as the man slowly rocks his hips forward and back, never breaching the halfway point. remaining gentle and delicate in his motion.

when she tries to sink her mouth further forward, he grips her hair and harshly tugs her back. her yelp is muffled around his cock.

“what, baby? that hurt?” his tone has a mocking edge to it. “thought y’said you could handle it.” he pulls himself out of her mouth so she can respond.

“i can.” her voice trembles. face is red hot. panties soaked with slick.

“yeah?” he slaps his cock against her cheek, “gonna be a tough girl for me?”

“yes,” she pleads, eyes fixated on him, enthusiastically embracing his shift of dominance.

to her surprise, carmen steps away from her. he’s giving her this look as if he’s about to devour her. silence, for a moment. like he’s thinking.

“take off your dress.”

she blinks, processing the request for a moment. after she shoots up and undoes her zipper, she hastily shoves the fabric down her body, letting it pool around her ankles before stepping out. and by the time she’s about to get back on her knees, carmen’s own clothes are on the floor next to hers.

the man graciously rakes his eyes over her nude body, thanking each and every saint he could think of. grabbing her and pulling her in for a frantic kiss before she can sink back down to her knees. he can taste the fruity remnants of lime and mint on her lips from the cocktail she had at the restaurant.

the girl eagerly accepts his kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth, swallowing the small groan he releases.

“wanna taste you again,” she pleads in between kisses.

“yeah?” he bites at her lip.

“y-eah,” she gasps, surprised at how firmly he had nipped her.

carmen pulls away with a final kiss, moving to sit on the couch. he spreads his knees apart and locks eyes with the girl, a silent beckon to come.

she obeys, of course, and sinks down to the floor in between his legs, resting her hands atop his strong thighs. it’s only moments before she’s eagerly diving forward to take him into her mouth again.

carmy just watches her, savoring the moment. savoring how her tongue swirls around him and how she keeps going lower and lower. how her face gets redder and how she stares up at him with blown pupils. it’s surreal—almost dreamlike.

he gathers her hair in a haphazard ponytail, using his grip to push her a little further down. make her move a little faster. he can tell she likes it, too, by the way her moans vibrate around his cock.

carmen pulls her back by her hair, forcing her to take a breather. his eyes rake over her flushed cheeks and pouty lips. she looks like a little doll, and the juxtaposition of her pretty face with the filthy position drives him fucking crazy.

“stick your tongue out,” he tells her gruffly.

and she does, showing him her tongue and gazing up at him through her lashes.

carmy takes a firm hold of her face with his free hand and spits into her mouth. then eases his cock back inside.

it’s enough to make her want to cum on the spot.

the girl takes him in deeper than she had yet, almost hitting the back of her throat. and despite her gag, she continues to enthusiastically bob her head, desperate for more.

it’s so enjoyable, in fact, that she trails her hand down between her legs, beginning to circle her swollen clit just to alleviate some of the heat she felt. and it feels so fucking good just to have that added touch that her body goes a little limp, jaw goes slack.

she gives carmen complete control of her movements, tethered to him by the tight fist wrapped around her hair—consciously focusing on relaxing her throat as tears brim her eyes.

“jesus christ, that’s good, baby.” he shifts forward, filling her mouth with more of his length. watches in mild enjoyment as she gags around him.

“just relax,” he soothes, moving his free hand to caress her face, dragging her back by her hair.

the girl takes a sharp breath in as soon as she can, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. her fingers are drenched with slick arousal, staring carmy in the eyes, lips parted as continues to eagerly rub circles over her clit.

“fuck me,” he strains, watching her play with herself, unaware of her desperation until that moment. the sight looks like it’s straight out of a porno. “you having fun down there?”

she nods her head eagerly, wiping some saliva from her chin with the back of her hand, leaning forward to try and take him back into her mouth.

carmen gives her hair a little tug, keeping her in place.

she glances up to give him a questioning look.

“come give me a taste.” his eyes glance down to her lips.

a small smile forms on her face as she processes his request. she gingerly leans forward, careful to not earn another tug, and licks a long stripe up his cock.

carmy loosens the grip on her hair as she goes to stand up, enthusiastically accepting her tongue into his mouth to taste himself.

there’s something about the ferocity of the kiss that makes him feel like he’s on the verge of finishing all over his stomach. he takes deep breaths trying to push the feeling away. and that’s before he feels the wet heat of her pussy rubbing against the tip his length.

the girl finds herself so desperate for release she begins to rock against his erection, letting it glide through her wet folds, gauging his reaction to see if he’ll stop her.

and he doesn’t, instead groaning into her mouth and grabbing her ass.

so the girl positions her wet hole over his cock, and slowly begins to sink down, letting out a gasp at the stretch.

“fuck,” the two chant in tandem, hers as a whimper and his as more of a gruff exhale.

carmen marvels about how perfect the stretch of her wet hot cunt feels around him as she eases herself down until she’s flush with his lap.

they just stare at each other for a second in this feral, pupils-blown kind of frenzy, mouths both agape at the sensation of his cock nudged so deeply within her. how she’s not even moving and it’s just so hot and wet and deep and fucking good.

carmen’s hand sides up her back, thumb pressing into the dip of her spine. his face is hot and his cock is throbbing and his mouth moves faster than his mind can.

“m’keeping you here with me,” he almost growls, pressing his fingers into her skin, eyes locked on hers. doesn’t miss the way she flinches a little at the words.

the girl grips the sides of his face, and leans forward, pressing her forehead against his, closing her eyes and shakily exhaling as she rocks her hips back and forth against him.

carmy says her name. it comes out strained. his hands grab her ass and he pulls and pushes her, intensifying the gentle rocking motion.

the girl presses her lips to his, hoping to quiet him with a kiss. hoping to forget about it and just enjoy the moment. but she feels him call her name again, this time against her lips. the girl begins to softly bounce herself on his lap, jostling his length inside of her.

“hey,” he exhales in between her eager kisses. “i didn’t mean-” another kiss, “-you just feel so good and i-”

“carmy,” she whispers softly against his lips, “be quiet baby. just-mmh… let’s just enjoy it.”

carmen groans into her mouth as she rocks her hips against his again, hand coming to the small of her back. and it’s definitely enjoyable. it’s just hard to not think about it ending. to not plead with her for just a little more.

the girl takes his scrunched face and nod as a gesture to keep going, so she shuffles her knees in a bit and begins slowly riding him. one hand touches his firm chest, the other trailing her kisses from his jaw to his neck.

“jesus christ,” is what slips from his mouth, as he feels her gentle bites, allowing himself to relinquish that control he holds so dearly, for just a moment.

when she pulls back from his neck, her face and chest are flushed, nipples perked, and she’s pushing her breasts out trying to get him to look.

but his eyes just remain fixed on hers, like he’s trying to memorize her blown pupils and color of her irises.

“is it okay?” she asks breathily as she keeps rocking her hips, feeling unexpectedly nervous under his intense gaze.

“you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he mutters immedietly, as if he doesn’t entirely process her question.

and even though they were this far along, the girl finds herself feeling shy at his sincerity. she goes to deflect as she usually does to compliments that fluster her.

“n-no, i-”

“-you are. my pretty fuckin’ girl. never gonna let you outta my sight,” he almost growls.

and by this point her body is hot and her pussy is throbbing and she’s finding the words that come out of his mouth so incredibly tempting. the implications less serious under the blanket of lust. so her lips part in a moan and she presses her hand to his chest and begins to ride faster, easing off then re-impaling herself on his cock. his hands come up to cup her breasts, ghosting thumbs over her nipples.

“yes, carm.”

“yeah?”

“mhm. love how you touch me.”

she shuffles her feet under her knees, angling herself to be able to bounce a bit more comfortably.

“you feel so-fuck… so good, you know that?” carmen grits, face scrunching at the new sensation.

her stomach flutters at his praise, eyes raking down his form beneath her. his flushed skin. the way the muscle of his shoulder bulges out a little as he’s grabbing her like his life depends on it.

“feels so big,” she whisper-cries.

“yeah? is it too much?”

“n-no. so good. m’so full.”

his eyes glance down to where their bodies are connected. watches her ride him for a moment. groans at the way she becomes nearly all the way flush with his hips.

“so good at that,” he grits, mesmerized by the way her sticky arousal clings to his pubic hair. “take me so good. you like feelin’ full, huh?”

her mouth just falls open in response, eyes screwing shut as she feels him reach forward to circle her clit. the added pleasure only spurs her on, beginning to eagerly ride him, breasts bouncing in front of his face.

“holy shit,” she cries, surprised how easily she feels her orgasm building, nails leaving crescents on the skin of his shoulder.

“you close already, baby?” he whispers with a small, knowing grin on his face. “m’barely touching you.”

she just moans in response, unable to open her eyes, bucking her hips more wildly by the second, movements becoming sloppier, needier.

“just keep-ah…just stay right there,” she pleads, savoring his slick, feather-light touches to her clit, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

“right there?” carmen eases his fingers back slightly at the sight of her tears, and it’s just enough pressure to keep her on edge.

“y-yeah, i’m…just please-” she cries pathetically, breaths becoming frantic, a static feeling tingling through her body. “please, carmy, m’gonna cum. just a little more.”

and he can’t help but just marvel at her. the twisted expression of pleasure on her face. the stray tear that slips down her cheek. it’s probably the most erotic thing he’s ever seen.

as a thank you for the next year of jerk-off material, he lets her have just a little more. watches with enjoyment as she finally comes unraveled with this loud, primal cry. feels the sting of her nails against his chest and bicep.

the man holds her hip with his free hand, thrusting up into her as her movement falters and she slumps forward.

“carm, i-” she gasps, body becoming overstimulated, thighs trembling.

“i got you, baby. i got you.”

“it’s-ah!”

“one more second, pretty girl, m’almost done. can you hold on for me?”

“y-yeah,” she cries, desperately grabbing onto him for dear life. there’s this overwhelming heat surging through her body. her lips feel numb and tingly. but she holds on and takes it like a big girl.

“you’re fuckin’ gripping me.” he strains, eyebrows twisted up in pleasure.

the girl isn’t able to respond through her jagged breathing, instead leaning forward to hungrily kiss him again.

“y’gonna have to move in a sec,” carmen warns, gripping her hips with bruising force.

“no,” she begins to move her hips against him, meeting his thrusts halfway.

carmy groans, eyes nearly rolling back into his head. “what do you mean no?” he strains.

“want it in me.”

“jesus, fu-” he exasperatedly exhales, “can’t baby. you know i can’t.”

they lock eyes, pupils blown.

“please. wanna feel it.” her plead comes in between desperate breaths.

“what, you want a baby or something?” the man asks her, partially in disbelief and partially in a fiery haze of lust.

“yes-!” she gasps. and even though a baby is probably the last thing she wants, there’s this inexplicable urge that overtakes. that revels in the idea of being linked with him forever.

“yeah?” he’s shocked by her answer, but not dissuaded, “you want me to put a baby in you?”

“yeah, carm. want your baby. wanna stay here with you.” the girl finds herself coming up on a second orgasm, relishing the way his cock perfectly nudges against her g-spot.

“fuckk,” he groans, face growing hot at her words, “you want that? really?” studying her expression for any trace of hesitation. finding none. “cause i’ll give it to you.” and he’s dead serious. he’ll buy a ring for her tomorrow if she wants it, he thinks to himself.

“yes, i want it,” she cries, “cum in me, please.”

and between the desperation of her plead and her breasts bouncing right in his face, it takes him about 5 more seconds before he erupts.

his cock twitches, body stiffens and he lets out a guttural moan, grabbing onto her hips with a bruising force.

and the feeling of his hot cum inside of her is enough for the girl to fall over the edge for a second time, tear-soaked eyes rolling back into her head, a whitehot bliss surging through her body.

the two lovers are overcome with the sensation, sexes pulsing rhythmically in sync, graciously sharing orgasms with each other.

carmen’s eyes are scrunched shut, brows furrowed and lips parted.

the girl’s head falls to his shoulder, shakily breathing through the feeling. trying to come back down to earth.

they just stay there for a moment, panting. recovering.

she finds that she can hear his heartbeat. zones into the rhythm. listens as it gradually slows.

carmy wraps his arms around her and nuzzles his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

when she finally pulls back after a few minutes, she plants a gentle kiss to his lips.

“you good?” he asks against her mouth.

“so good.” and so full and so warm. she never wants to move.

but like all good things, they must come to an end. so the girl begins to slowly ease herself off his cock. and suddenly realizes what just happened.

“oh shit.”

“what?” carmen opens his eyes. watches as his cum slowly drips out of her. tries to take a mental picture.

but the girl quickly reaches over to grab a tissue off the coffee table, frantically wiping away the surplus of the stickiness leaking from her core.

“why didn’t you pull out?” her tone grows a bit frantic.

“wha-cause you fuckin’ begged me not to.” he shakes his head, trying to comprehend her question.

“i-…” she stutters, exhaling, “fuck, carmy, i’m not on birth control!”

he has this perplexed expression on his face, blinking slowly and trying to rationalize her response. “you…did you not want me to? m sorry, i-”

“-no, i know i told you to. i just-…i got caught up in the moment i guess.” between the release of her orgasm and the weight of her previous request, the girl finds herself fighting the urge to cry.

carmen must seem to notice this, because his hardened expression softens a bit. he quickly tries to think of something comforting to say.

“want me to take you to get a plan b?”

nice, carmy, he thinks to himself. he’s never been good at responding fast under pressure.

“yeah.” her response comes as a whisper. comes with a single tear. she turns her head away from him and embarrassedly tries to wipe it away.

“hey,” he says tenderly, going to hold the side of her face, turning her back to face him. just studies her face for a moment with furrowed brows, trying to think of what to say. “you…you know i’d support you, right? if you…whatever you decide.”

“really?” it’s hard for her to believe him.

“yes, really.”

“you’d want a baby?”

“if that’s what you want.” he has the most genuine expression on his face, eyes locked with hers. he watches another tear roll down her cheek and adds, “seriously. i’m all in.”

she’s shocked by his sincerity. it doesn’t make anything easier, either. just makes everything feel more confusing.

“i’m…carmy, i can’t.” her words come out as a kind of sob.

“that’s okay.” he reassures wholeheartedly. he doesn’t know why he feels just a little disappointed.

“but i want to.” the girl plants her hands on his bare chest. “it’s just…you’re older than me. you’re ready for that kind of thing. i’m…such a mess, i can’t even imagine being a mom yet.” it comes out choked, the tears just keep falling.

“i get it.” he nods. “really. you don’t have to explain yourself.” he rubs circles with his thumb along her hip. “i just wanted you to know. it’s your choice.”

“you’d wanna have a baby with me?” she wipes at her cheek.

“yeah.” he nods, brows furrowed. “of course i would.”

and just for a moment, the girl lets herself fantasize. lets her brain entertain the thought of having a family with him. of just leaving everything in california and starting new. of being so selfish and doing what she wants, just this one time.

the thought is so tempting she finds it hard to distance herself from. to rationalize.

she wouldn’t be a good mom. a good wife. not right now. she still has so much to learn about herself. so much to still figure out.

after a moment, she finally speaks.

“can you take me to cvs?”

carmen nods, and reaches up to wipe the last of her tears away.

he ignores the gnawing feeling of loss. has to remind himself it’s the loss of a fantasy.

the loss of something that never existed.

“fuck me.” she drops her bag to the ground, frantically opening pockets and unzipping zippers. “carm, i think i left my passport on the-“

“-no you didn’t.” he fishes in his back pocket for the booklet and hands it over. “here.”

the girl lets out a sigh of relief, staring up at the man with this perplexed, amazed expression.

“thank you.” it comes out in a sort of whisper, and when she goes to take it from him, their fingers brush against each other.

“you, uh…you only got an hour left.” he runs his hand through his messy hair. “y’should probably go find your gate.”

“yeah.” she stands. her bag remains on the ground. “okay.”

the two just stare at each other for a minute, locked in this trance-like state.

“you know, i-”

“-do you think we-”

their words overlap.

“i’m sorry, you go-”

“-no, go ahead.” carmen nods, a small smile on his face.

she takes a deep breath, piecing together what she even wants to say.

“just…thank you. for everything. and i’m gonna miss you.” her words don’t do it justice. there’s so much more she wants to say.

he nods, swallowing harshly. his fingers fumble for the piece of paper folded up in his pocket.

“i, uh…listen. i know you’re gonna be busy, and…want to focus on other things, which i get. but, uh…i was thinking, if you wanted…no pressure…uh,”

“what is that?” she interrupts, curiosity getting to the better of her, pointing to the folded up paper he holds.

“it’s uh…it’s a plane ticket. well, a voucher.” he hurriedly explains, “from LAX to ORD. i was thinking if you ever had a weekend free or something…” he trails off, trying to gauge her reaction. hoping he’s not overstepping.

she takes deep breaths—having promised herself earlier that she wouldn’t cry. but the moment she goes to open her mouth to speak, a sob comes out. she claps her hand over her mouth. closes her eyes as she feels carmen’s arms instantly wrap around her.

“hey,” he soothes, kissing the side of her head. “c’mon, don’t cry. you’re gonna make me cry.” his voice wobbles a bit.

the girl burrows her face into his chest, staining his shirt with tears.

“i don’t wanna go-!” she cries, clinging onto him as if her life depends on it.

“i know.” he nuzzles his nose into her hair. “i know, pretty girl. it’s gonna be okay.” his throat burns. face feels hot. and as much as he hates it, tears brim at his eyes. he told himself he wasn’t going to cry.

and so they just stand there, holding each other. ignoring the shuffle of the crowd around them as people queue into the security line.

ignoring the grainy announcements over the pa system.

ignoring the fact that it would’ve been so much less painful had they never gone so far.

for a moment, it feels like the world around them stops. the passage of time, the priority of leaving, all of it.

just for a moment. like they’re back in the living room and ella fitzgerald is playing.

“don’t forget about me,” she pleads into the fabric of his jacket.

“i don’t think i could if i tried.”

at this, she places a soft kiss onto his neck. “i’ll miss you.”

“me too,” carmen chokes out, grabbing at her waist, her hips, trying to memorize the feeling of her body against his.

and as the girl slowly tries to pull away, he holds her a little tighter, trying to turn his head so she doesn’t see him cry.

“carmy,” she whispers soothingly, reaching up to wipe a tear from his face.

“just, uh…call me when you land, yeah?” he brushes the gesture off, feeling all too vulnerable under her sympathetic gaze.

“okay.” she rubs his cheek.

“alright. i guess you should go get in line, then.” he goes to step back.

“wait.”

the girl pulls his face in and presses one last kiss to his lips. it feels like they lock together. like the perfect fit.

and carmen just melts into the feeling, letting out the smallest of groans into her mouth. it’s her taste, her smell, everything. for a split second he debates giving up on his dreams. selling the restaurant and following her to california. raising babies and laying in the sand and swimming in the ocean no matter how cold it is.

she slowly steps back, leaving him wanting just a little more.

“i love you.” she softly reminds him, holding his hand.

he nods, pressing his lips together and looking away from her. feeling so stupid for the tears that burn his eyes.

“i love you too.”

the girl takes another step back, letting her hand fall from his. picking up her bag and giving him one last good look. imprinting into her mind his messy curls and handsome face.

and it feels like there’s nothing left to say, really.

so she turns and walks away from him. towards the security checkpoint doors. taking deep breaths and wiping at her cheeks. she’s about to push through the doors.

don’t look back. do not look back.

she turns to look back at him. and he’s still there, standing in the same place she’d left him. his hands are in his pockets. jaw is clenched. just watching her with this look on his face that makes her want to dive into his arms and tell him she’ll stay.

the girl raises her hand. gives him a small wave. he returns the gesture with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

and with that, she pushes through the doors.

in a way, it feels like she’s leaving home. not returning home.

for the entire flight, she stares out the window in complete silence. thinking about the last few months. biting back more tears with every new thought.

she gets back to san diego around 6 in the evening. takes a taxi to the beach that’s a mile from her house.

sends carmy a picture of the waves rolling in, the sky stained a pinkish orange.

within a few minutes, she receives a heart on the photo.

he doesn’t send anything else.

it does feel good to be home. the girl has to continually remind herself of this over the next few weeks. it feels familiar. feels safe.

but along with the joy of being back home, there’s this underlying feeling of grief. a gnawing in her chest whenever she lays her head down at night.

she feels haunted by carmen, in a way.

her brain plays cruel tricks on her—mistaking any white man with curly brown hair at the supermarket for him just for a split second.

stalking his instagram. his restaurant’s instagram. his restaurant’s employee’s instagrams. trying to keep up with him.

she doesn’t call him. doesn’t text.

and carmy doesn’t either.

she opens their message thread ever so often just to make sure she didn’t miss his notification. types out messages and deletes them and stares at the heart he’d left on her picture.

she convinces herself that if he wanted to call her, he would’ve. takes his silence as a message.

on christmas day she has one cranberry cocktail too many and finally gives in. navigates to her contacts and presses on the phone icon next to his name.

and the line rings. and rings. and rings. and right before she’s about to hang up and drown herself in more cranberry cocktails, the line picks up.

“hey,” comes carmen’s voice through the phone. it’s so good to hear that the girl blanks out for a minute, not even sure of what to say. “hello?” he asks into the silence.

“fuck you,” she blurts out, clapping a hand over her mouth as soon as the words leave. it was just the first thing that came to mind.

after a stunned silence, she hears him give a surprised chuckle, followed by a “merry christmas to you too.” carmen grabs his jacket and opens the door of his mom’s house, stepping out into the cold, snowy night.

“you never called me.”

“i, um…i didn’t think you wanted me to,” the man responds truthfully, “you never responded.”

what? he never sent anything to respond to.

“respond to-…” she scoffs, “what, you ‘liking’ my message?”

“yeah,” he feels a little embarrassed hearing it out loud, “yeah, i guess i can see what you mean. i, uh…sorry. i was actually just thinking about you.”

his admission sends butterflies through her stomach. she rolls her eyes at the feeling.

“yeah, well merry christmas. and i hope you get coal.” her face feels hot. “and i miss you.” the last part spills out without her permission.

he gives her another soft laugh.

“yeah, i deserve coal. and i…i miss you so fucking much,” he admits, watching his breath freeze in the air in front of him, “you still liking it out there?”

“it’s alright.” her response comes softly. she plays with a loose thread on her sweater.

“yeah? your mom doing okay?”

“i guess. as okay as she can. is yours?”

carmen exhales, half humorous, half exasperation. “yeah. as okay as she can.” he had been called a bitch more times than he could count tonight, actually. but he keeps it light.

the girl just hums in agreement at this, and a brief silence settles between them. he’s the one to eventually break it.

“you, uh…you think about coming out anytime soon?” god, he wishes he had a cigarette. “still got your room empty.”

“yeah, i have.” it’s all she’s been thinking about. but she tries to stay nonchalant. “maybe after new years.”

“great, yeah.” his heart pounds a little faster at her words. “no pressure, just…yeah. i’d love to see you.”

“okay. i’ll um…i’ll let you know,” she tells him softly, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry.

“okay.”

“merry christmas, carmy.”

“merry christmas.” he shuffles from side to side. “stay in touch, yeah? it was really good to hear from you.”

“yeah, i will. you too. goodnight.”

“wait, i uh-” he wants to tell her he loves her.

“hm?” she puts the phone back up to her ear.

“just, um…take care of yourself, yeah?” he can’t seem to muster up the courage.

“i will.”

“okay. good.”

“i…i’m gonna feel stupid for saying this, but i love you, carm.”

he gets this feeling of relief and pain all in one. “i love you too.” so much. “thanks for callin’.”

“goodnight.”

“yeah, night.”

the line disconnects. and it feels better than before.

hurts still, yes.

but better.

the girl finds herself staring at the ceiling that night, just thinking. about her family, her career. about carmen. finds solace in the way that gnawing feeling is replaced by a fluttering. a hopefulness.

and what is love, if not unconditional and everlasting?

she drifts off to sleep with warm cheeks and the image of his goofy smile at the forefront of her mind.

a/n: ow.

really hope you enjoyed this series :) these two i hold so near & dear to my heart and i thoroughly enjoyed watching this story fold out along with you. thank you all so much for your patience with the process & for your kind words!!! xoxox

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine

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vervainandspritz · 5 hours ago

Text

MORE GRATEFUL THAN THIS

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: smut, deaththreat, gun, breeding, swearing, name calling, unprotected sex, choking, mean Tommy, humiliation, degradation

A/N: send smut requests for Tommy

"Tommy, please I need you" Y/N whimpered out, leaning forward on the desk in his office. Her hand curled around the edge of the desk, eyes silently begging him to give in to her needs. Thomas knew Y/N too well to not be aware of how.. insatiable she was getting whenever she was ovulating. The way she trembled lightly, pressing her thighs together never ceased to make him stiffen beneath his slacks.

Abruptly getting up, he immediately gripped the back of her neck in his grasp, circling the desk and standing by her side. His body firm against her soft skin. The room would be completely silent if it wasn't for her heavy breathing which made him chuckle darkly as his fingers tightened around her throat.

"So fucking needy, eh?" He hissed, pulling her against his firm chest. Tommy's look was... Quite unusual today. His suit jacket was off, his white elegant shirt was covered by a vest. The vest.. covered the holster and gun sitting neatly beneath the material. "Distracting, not letting me work," He purred louder, seeing how her cheeks turned red and her eyes became cloudy and only then did he loosen the grip on her throat just lightly.

"Please–fuck, please!" She squirmed, trying to see him over her shoulder but he didn't allow it, quickly pushing her down onto his desk, causing a few pens and papers to fall on the floor, but it wasn't enough to get her attention. The tingling between her legs was much more bothering, causing her to whimper over and over again as her knuckles turned white. "Tommy!"

He chuckled arrogantly behind her back, eyes moving down onto her covered bottom as one of his hands kept her face pressed down onto the dark wood.

"Shut up!" He barked, pulling her dress up in a rough, indelicate movement, baring her round ass for his eyes only. "After all, I'm doing you a favour. The least you could do is shut the fuck up," His tongue wrapped around the.. cruel words nicely, bringing out the intense accent even more than usual as he watched her try to rub her thighs together, seeking friction more desperately as his snarling came to her ears. Thomas' lips turned into a grin, knowing well how mean words worked her up. How easily influenced she was by his presence. He knew exactly what she wanted and needed, even if she wasn't aware just yet. ”Needy whore,” He growled, tugging on her hair as the other hand ripped her underwear, causing the cold air to hit her most sensitive spot.

The arousal, desire and longing for his touch quickly mixed with anger, hearing his words. Squeezing her thighs harder, Y/N finally managed to speak up.

”Maybe I–I should go somewhere else then, wouldn't have to look long!” She bit back with a snarl, feeling the way his fingers pulled on the makeshift ponytail harder out of nowhere. His hand shifted further, gripping her jaw and throat with one hand, as his body covered her own from the back, pressing her down.

Only then she felt his wet, hot manhood gliding between her legs while throbbing angrily. The warmth radiating off his skin was almost intoxicating and she let out a quick whine feeling the wide tip of his cock pressing against her lips, not enough to breach the opening. Her eyes fell shut weakly.

”Feel that?” He asked in a husky, low voice, every ounce of humour disappeared from his tone. Another hand snaked beneath her body, petting her pussy a couple times and causing her to squirm feeling the painful stimulation on her sensitive clit. Before she could let out any sound, her eyes rolled to the back of her skull as the desk jerked forward along with the hard thrust Thomas gave her, burying the entire length of his thick cock in her cunt with a growl. ”That's my cock, stretching your needy fuckhole. I thought I taught you to be more grateful than this, pet.” He purred into her ear, and Y/N could only moan loudly as she felt his movements behind her back.

”But it seems like you need a reminder, eh?” He let out a chuckle, and Y/N immediately turned stiff head to toe, as she felt the cold barrel pressing up against her temple. His hot breath coming in contrast to the cold metal, as he laughed arrogantly again, beginning to move his hips, stretching her tender walls and stuffing her full of him. Her orgasm began running towards her like a train just then, and the mix of emotions became so blurry, she could barely make anything out.

”Who does this naughty cunt belong to, pet?” He asked calmly, almost like he wasn't holding a gun to her head. Y/N's eyes watered as her heart pounded loudly in her chest, yet the heat pooling in her pussy was unmistakable, and she knew he felt that.

”Y–You, Tommy” She stuttered out as he fucked her a little harder, keeping a steady pace. She winced hearing the sound indicating his weapon is charged.

”You can do better than that, eh?” He kissed her cheek lightly, his lips softly pressing next to where the barrel remained snugly.

”It's yours, I'm yours, Tommy! I'm sorry!” She cried out quickly, starting to genuinely fear for her life as he chuckled once more.

Pressing his lips to the back of her head, he inhaled her scent, closing his eyes. Tommy's hips picked up at a fast pace, ruthlessly rutting into her wet heat, huffing and growling under his breath at how tightly her pussy gripped him, almost like it didn't want to let him go.

”Good girl. Good fucking girl” He purred, his right hand grasping her hips in a bruising grip, making her whine at the sting as he fucked her hard and fast, chasing his orgasm. The coldness at her temple was a reminder, as Thomas pressed the gun harder against her skin. ”Come for me, pet. Because you may not have the chance anymore.” His words were drained from any emotion, his hips pulling her own in tandem with his thrusts, pushing deeper than ever before. The fear in Y/N's mind increased the arousal, causing her to see starts in the pitch black of her eyelids as she cried out, tears spilling on her cheeks. Her weak voice kept begging him not to, repeating 'please' over and over as finally, he groaned out loud, pushing his cock snuggly against her cervix, getting as deep as physically possible.

...and then she heard it. His huff, followed by the cling of a gunshot... Of an empty barrel. No bullet coming out.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, laying completely still with her eyesight being a blurry mess, as she felt his cum filling her to the brim.

Thomas slowly raised from her back, supporting himself on his hands as he reached to his pocket, pulling out a handful. Slowly, one by one he let the bullets fall on the desk, causing her to wince at the loud sound as she looked to see what it was.

Her heart stopped for a second, realizing that he took the bullets out when she couldn't see, laying face down on the desk. Finally, she managed to let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing. Tommy chuckled, seeing it before he leaned down, leaving little pecks on her cheek.

”You're welcome, Mrs. Shelby”

...and Y/N couldn't help but smile, trying to catch her breath as her husband pulled back, causing his cum to trickle down her legs.

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby dark #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby dark #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders

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uhbambii · 2 days ago

Text

A Taste of Trouble

Rook leaned against the kitchen counter of the lighthouse, her knife moving deftly as she diced vegetables. The warm glow of the hearthlight flickered across her face, bringing out the sharp glint of her amber eyes. Nearby, Lucanis Dellamorte stirred a pot of sauce with the easy grace that seemed to follow his every movement.

Lucanis looked much the same as he always did, dressed sharply, dark hair slicked back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as though he was privy to some secret no one else knew. But here, in the quiet of the kitchen, he seemed… softer. The assassin’s sharp edges were still there, of course, Lucanis could never quite shed his air of danger, but the way his voice rumbled as he spoke made her stomach flutter.

“Rook,” he drawled, inspecting the way she cut with the knife like a general surveying a battlefield. “You keep cutting like that, and I’ll start to think you actually know your way around a kitchen. Dangerous territory for a Crow. Do you plan on slaying enemies with seasoning now?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, not missing the teasing note in his voice. “If I do, I’ll be sure to start with you,” she quipped, tossing the diced vegetables into the pot. “But only after I taste whatever you’re burning over there.”

Lucanis chuckled, a deep, velvety sound that sent warmth curling low in her stomach. “Burning? Cara mia, that’s an insult. I’ll have you know, this sauce is perfection incarnate. Much like myself.” He leaned in, just slightly, his dark eyes catching hers, and for a moment, her breath hitched.

She snorted, breaking the spell. “Perfection? You might want to let the sauce speak for itself before your ego swallows the entire room.”

He shot her a mock-wounded look but stepped closer, a glint of mischief in his gaze. Scooping a bit of the sauce onto his finger, he held it up to her, as if daring her to try it.

Rook hesitated for only a second before leaning forward to taste it—until Lucanis swiped the sauce across her lips instead, his smirk widening as she blinked in surprise.

“Oops,” he said, entirely unconvincing.

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on her lips, the playful glint in his eyes faltering as he watched her slowly lick the sauce away. Her tongue darted out, tasting the rich, spicy flavor, and his composure cracked, just for an instant. His hand tightened around the wooden spoon, his jaw clenching as though holding himself back.

“My eyes are up—” she began, voice lilting with mock innocence, but her words caught in her throat as Lucanis stepped closer.

She backed up instinctively, the edge of the table pressing against her hips, trapping her. Lucanis towered over her, his usual smirk replaced by something far more intense. His dark eyes locked into hers, his breath warm against her skin.

“You are impossible, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rougher now, the playful edge gone.

“Me?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady even as her heart thundered in her chest. “You’re the one playing games.”

His lips curved into a faint smile, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he reached up, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. The touch was featherlight, but it sent sparks racing across her skin.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing the risk, but then his lips were on hers, and all thoughts of teasing banter vanished.

The kiss was fierce and consuming, the kind that left no room for doubt. Lucanis kissed like he did everything else, with precision and purpose, yet somehow still wild and untamed. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them, the table digging into her back forgotten entirely.

Rook’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, matching his intensity. The world outside the lighthouse, the dangers of their lives as Crows, all of it faded away. There was only the heat of his lips on hers, the intoxicating press of his body against hers. The heady realization that this man, this enigmatic, deadly, maddening man was hers, at least in this moment.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Lucanis rested his forehead against hers, his dark eyes searching hers for something unspoken.

“Still think I’m all ego?” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

She grinned, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Maybe. But the sauce is decent, so I’ll let it slide.”

His laughter rumbled between them, low and warm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Rook let herself enjoy the fleeting feeling of peace.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragonage inquisition #dragonage veilguard #veilguard spoilers #rook x lucanis #lucanis x rook #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age lucanis #crow rook #datv lucanis #da4 lucanis #lucanis x reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader

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moonbyulsstuff · 22 hours ago

Note

Hi can you do a yandere navier from remarried empress with a female reader?

She's Mine.

Female Reader.

Requested.

Masterlist

Request Rules.

Tap tap tap..

Navier's footstep echoed through the halls, the moonlight shining through the windows creating a lucent look in the hallways. Her feet making her go to the usual chambers of a woman that she knows, loves and obsess over.

Her day has been hectic, ever since the death of Sovieshu by killed by a "assassin" caused a ruckus in the empire. The whole empire was in mourning for the loss of their Emperor but Navier could care less of her now ex husband's death.

She was tired of putting a facade for the entire week as nobles, commoners, and peasants showed their sympathy for her. Saying on how it must have been hard for Navier to know that her "beloved" husband had died to due an assassin.

Through countless tears and fake empathy about Sovieshu death, the day had finally ended and she can go back to not caring about him at all and show her love to the woman that had captured her heart.

The big wooden doors closed and on the other side the woman she all knew too well, her breath hitched and she can feel her palms sweating at the thought of seeing her once more.

Without knocking, Navier opened the door and saw the sleeping figure of the woman in the bed all by. The moonlight caressing her face softly, Navier could feel her heart beating against her chest.

Her gaze wondered over the gifts that she had given her, the vase that was filled of [Name] favorite flowers, her books laid across the tables and shelves, ones that Navier knew she would enjoy the most.

And then onto the jewelry laid across her vanity, and her dresses and shoes. Navier could feel her smile widen at the sight, and the countless times she saw [Name] wearing the clothes, shoes and jewelry she had given her.

Or how she spoke about the books that she had gifted to her, Navier liked to hear the sound of [Name] voice. It was better than anything, it calmed her senses and made her relaxed.

"Your majesty?" Oh, what a lovely sound..

"Oh, [Name].." Navier watched with hawk eyes as [Name] sat up on the bed, observing every detail. The way her hair was a mess, how close lidded her eyes were whenever she just woke up, how plump her lips were. Gosh, she was just so irresistible..

"What are you doing here?" The Empress smiled and sat down on her bed, her hand softly caressing the sheets. "Just wanted to check up on you.." Navier voice was soft and melodic, [Name] smiled.

"I appreciate the concern, your majesty.. but you don't need to. I'm perfectly fine.." [Name] smiled at the Empress which made her heart flutter at the sight of her smile. "... I can't sleep.." She gave a excuse.

"Huh..? You can't sleep?" Navier nodded. "I have a hard time sleeping ever since of Sovieshu death..." Navier said, acting sad to gain empathy from [Name]. Putting on the fake small tears, she could see [Name] gaze softened and moved closer to her.

"It's going to be alright your majesty..." [Name] wrapped her arms around Navier and pulled her close, Navier lip's twitched when they made contact. She buried her head against [Name] chest.

".... Can I sleep here with you? It'll make me sleep better.." Navier lied, feeling her smile widen and was glad that [Name] couldn't see her face right now.

"Of course, your majesty..." "Thank you.."

They laid on the bed and got comfortable, [Name] laid down on her side as well as Navier. Facing each other. "Goodnight your majesty.." [Name] said with a smile which Navier returned.

"Goodnight.."

[Name] closed her eyes and peacefully slept, Navier felt giddy and caress her face. Her face became flustered and possessively wrapped her arms around [Name], pulling her closer to her.

"You're mine.. [Name]..." She whispered, caressing her [H/C] locks. Running her fingers through it. "You're mine... and no one can take you away from me..." Navier placed a soft kiss on her forehead, tightening her hold around [Name] as she slept.

"You will be mine... and we'll be together... forever..."

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hiddcnhorizcns · 3 days ago

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julian felt like the room had shifted, like the gravity had tilted and all the weight was pulling toward maisie. every breath felt thick, heavy with something more than smoke. his mind was clouded, not just by the haze of the joint, but by the way her presence overwhelmed his senses. he couldn’t think straight anymore; every thought, every word, felt like it was slipping through his fingers before he could make sense of it. all that was left was her—maisie, leaning closer, her voice soft but laced with something that made his heart race. he tried to focus on the movie, the disjointed cuts and strange scenes flickering across the screen, but it felt distant, irrelevant compared to the heat of maisie’s gaze, the way her voice curled around his name like it belonged there. he could hear the quiet urgency in her tone, the way her words hung in the air, and he felt his chest tighten, as if the moment was too big to contain.

would you do the honors?

her whisper hit him like a spark, igniting something he’d been trying to ignore all night. julian’s heart was pounding, and he couldn’t tell if it was the weed or the weight of her words—or maybe it was both. he looked at her, really looked at her, and the intensity in her eyes, the way they seemed to hold all the things they weren’t saying, made him feel like he was standing at the edge of something vast and unknown. he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. he leaned in closer, his heart hammering in his chest, every nerve alive and electric. he couldn’t think straight anymore, and maybe that was a good thing. thinking had held him back before. thinking had stopped him from doing what he’d wanted to for longer than he could remember. but now, with maisie so close, her eyes heavy-lidded and filled with something he couldn’t ignore, thinking wasn’t an option. "i will blow the smoke in your mouth and you have to suck it right back inside your lungs." he instructed before he inhaled deeply, pulling from the joint one last time, letting the smoke fill his lungs. as he exhaled, he tilted his head toward her, their faces just inches apart. the smoke drifted from his lips to hers, a soft, shared breath that felt impossibly intimate. his hand moved, almost on its own, reaching out to cradle the back of her neck, his thumb brushing against her skin as he guided her closer.

it wasn’t just the act—it was the way their breath intertwined, the way the intimacy of the moment felt like it had shattered whatever boundaries still existed between them. julian stayed close, his hand still on her neck, his thumb tracing a long, nervous pattern against the crook of her neck. he felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them, the glow of the television casting shadows on her face, highlighting the curve of her lips, the flush of her cheeks. the silence between them was deafening, heavy with everything they weren’t saying. his eyes searched hers, lingering on the way to her lips for a moment more. as julian's gaze drifted to maisie’s lips, suddenly, nothing else in the room existed. the flickering light of the television, the haze from the joint still lingering in the air, the strange sounds of the movie—all of it faded into the background. his entire world narrowed to the curve of her mouth, the way her lips glistened faintly, parted just enough to tempt him further into the abyss of his desire. he swallowed hard, his throat still dry, his breathing shallow. the pull between them was magnetic, irresistible, and the heat coursing through his veins was almost suffocating. julian felt the ache of it deep in his chest, a raw and primal hunger he could no longer ignore. his tongue darted out, wetting his lips instinctively, the motion slow and deliberate as he tried to steady himself, but it only seemed to make things worse. his mind was a blur, but one thought burned bright through the haze: i want to taste her. the desire was overwhelming, consuming him as his gaze lingered on her lips, imagining the softness of them under his own, the sweetness of her breath mingling with his. he felt like a predator caught in the hunt, teetering on the edge of restraint and surrender, barely holding himself back.

his chest felt tight, almost painful with how much he wanted her, needed her. the space between them seemed unbearable, every inch a cruel distance he wasn’t sure he could endure anymore. his voice, low and thick with longing, broke the silence. “maisie…” he murmured, her name a plea, a question, a confession. his eyes flickered up to hers, searching, desperate for some kind of permission, even as he felt his control slipping further with every passing second. the tension in the air was electric, charged with all the things they’d been holding back, and julian knew he was standing on the edge of something he could never take back. his other thumb brushed her lower lip gently, almost reverently, his own lips parting slightly as he fought to catch his breath. he couldn’t stop himself anymore. the thought of not closing the distance between them, of not knowing what her lips tasted like, was unbearable. the haze, the desire, the unspoken connection between them—it was all too much. his voice dropped to a whisper, trembling with vulnerability and need. “tell me to stop,” he said, his words barely audible, a last, fragile thread of self-restraint. “or i won’t.”

tilting her head while confused with the movie, maisie wondered where she was in that very moment: while her eyes were trying to hold on to the images, they seemed to switch so quickly, as if she didn't have enough time to properly feel them. this simple thought sent goosebumps all over maisie's body, when she came to the realisation that no matter what this movie was about, living would always be just like a movie: when you begin to understand and to feel yourself inside the movie, another scene would pop up, making you have to adapt or else you'd be suffering the nostalgia of not having something. and this was the moment in which she allowed herself to properly think about what was going on between the two of them: he was feeling. she was feeling. both of them were eager to savour the moment, but what if the scene changed? what if just as quick as a movie cut, they could find themselves apart?

but their connection was stronger than simple cuts, wasn't it? their connection lasted for so many movie cuts, almost as if it the exchange between scenes were a translucent one, not changing to another one, but yet transforming. the way their hands touched while passing the joint, it seemed like they were giving space to the unsaid to express itself in the way they were ready to do so... which was using objects to fulfill the lack of touch by the other's hands. as julian mentions the popcorn, maisie grabs it and has to hard blink to properly see the popcorn. with the exchanging light between scenes on the movie, maisie finds herself a bit confused when grabbing the popcorn. there's no sauce, she thinks, recalling the fact that neither her or him had put it all on. with the honey-sriracha-and-others kind of sauces by his bed, she grabs each one, a movement taking way more than it actually should, but time isn't a thing for her right now. as she finish, she shakes the popcorn in order to mix all of the ingredients, letting some of it fall on the ground. without a question, she's quick to grab herself a hand full of popcorns, and put it in her mouth. noticing he's looking at her, she can't help but to laugh while the weird taste mixes itself, playing on top of her tongue as if it was their own playground. "i am maisie. i told you- no, no more..." she laughs, knowing how complex it is to simply form sentences without laughing. "no more silence, okay?" she keeps on laughing, catching her breath as she inhales the haze between them, feeling as if she could actually be even higher just by this simple act. "for...?" she questions, wondering what is it that it's going around on his mind, making him form sentences wide opened, with multiple possibilities of interpretations. as she notices him cutting his sentence by the end of it, she can't help both the curiosity and the expectation towards his next words. pretend you're not what? please, say it, her eyes begs at him, like the invisible string is now around her chest, unable to be cut and unable to be untangled, unless they both used words for it. how she hoped he was about to say what she was feeling as well.

with an attempt to get the answer she wanted, maisie leaned in, even closer to him, holding up a curiosity gaze and not backing away any inch. from this point on, maisie decided that the only movement related to their distance would be to decrease it, and not increase: their bond seemed to be blossoming, and she wouldn't be the one to tear it down. not when she was this deep in. "julian," she says it back, savouring his name just as much as he was savouring hers, each and every letter lingering on her tongue; an abstraction of themselves on each other's tongues. with the smoke escaping from his lips, maisie leans in a bit more, inhaling the smoke once more as if she wanted to show that whatever he wanted to give her, she would take it. "never." voice down low as she was now blinking slowly, eyes no longer able to hold the disguise of its desire. curious of what would follow, her whole face is letting out, one by one, of those so mixed up feelings. as maisie's now aware of the rush of her heart, there's literally nothing else holding her back. "would you do the honors?" she lets out in a whisper, almost as if she was breaking the secrecy they've built up for so long.

#ohmylcve

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pdwoozi · 9 months ago

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sunni-stuff · 13 days ago

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Part 4

Soap’s eyebrows lifted with a curious glint in his eye as he looked from you to Adira, a playful grin edging onto his face. He leaned in, never one to miss a chance at a bit of friendly prodding.

“So… you’re married?” he asked, his tone as light as his smirk.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Haha! No, I’m not.” You gave Adira’s tiny hand a gentle squeeze, glancing down at her with a smile that softened every edge on your face.

Soap tilted his head, pretending to be shocked. “A bonnie lass like yerself? Unmarried?” he teased, hand on his chest as though it were a crime.

“Guess I’m a rare breed,” you replied with a grin, chuckling as you shifted Adira’s hand in yours.

Soap’s face lit up at your response, as if he’d just been given the most interesting bit of news he’d heard all week. He shot Ghost a quick look, but Ghost was still watching Adira, his gaze softened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Gaz wasn't fascinated by Soap's ability to make anyone at ease, the man was a cassanova. Roach watched Adira with curiosity, as though piecing together a puzzle he hadn’t realized existed until now. Price stood off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing the whole scene.

“If you aren’t married, how’d you get this little one?” Soap pushed, grinning as he wiggled a playful finger in Adira’s direction.

Adira’s gaze snapped up from Ghost to the man with the funny hair, her little brow furrowing as she studied Soap with a mix of curiosity and caution. She leaned into your leg, clearly wary, but her attention stayed on the finger waving in front of her.

You chuckled, brushing a hand over Adira’s head to reassure her. “Long story,” you replied, smiling. “Let’s just say she was an unexpected blessing.”

Soap laughed softly, glancing at Ghost with a gleam in his eye. “Ah, aye, life’s full of surprises, eh?”

Ghost, who had been studying Adira in silence, clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably as Soap’s words hit a little too close to home.

“I used to be really wild back in the day,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, a hint of nostalgia coloring your tone as you thought back to those not-so-distant years.

Soap wasn’t quite done yet, though. “Does the father know?” he threw a quick glance at Ghost, who had just risen from his crouched position. A new tension ran through Ghost’s frame, his stance rigid, as if the question had struck something he’d rather not confront.

You hesitated, a shadow crossing your expression before you shook your head. “No, he doesn’t… He, uh, probably has no idea.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering from you to Adira, who was absorbed in her drink, unaware of the intensity surrounding her. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, he looked as though he wanted to speak—but whatever words he had caught in his throat, locked behind his silence.

"I see, well. I'm sorry if I took up your time, ma’am, you've been a nice chat," Soap said, his voice softening with a touch of politeness, his grin still present but more reserved now.

You nodded, giving Adira’s hand a gentle tug as you continued on your way, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound accompanying your steps. The blue sky stretched above, peaceful, serene. As you walked, Adira turned her head, glancing back at Ghost one final time. She refused to let go of her cup, her small fingers gripping it tightly, but she lifted her other hand in a small, hesitant wave. "Bye-bye," she whispered, her voice soft but sweet.

Ghost’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of things churning behind those eyes.

Price let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms and facing Ghost. “So... what’s the plan?” he asked, his tone both blunt and expectant, clearly waiting for some kind of direction. The rest of the team stood in silence, watching the exchange unfold.

Ghost didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on you and Adira, watching you both disappear further down the street, the distance growing with each step. The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound in the quiet winter air. He didn’t even notice Price's voice until the man spoke again, closer now, with a slight edge to his tone.

"Ghost, talk to me. What’s the plan here?”

Finally, Ghost shifted, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched as he turned to face Price. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something caught between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing regret.

"I don't know," he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I wasn't expecting this. Hell, I didn't even know she existed." His voice was low, strained, but there was a quiet honesty to it, as if he was trying to process something that didn’t make sense.

Soap stepped closer, his expression serious for once. "What now, Ghost? We can help. But you need to tell us what's going on."

Ghost finally looked away, his attention drawn to the ground, his fingers twitching like he was trying to find something to hold onto. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. "All I know is... I saw her. And it hit me like a fucking truck."

Roach, always one to stay in the background, spoke up. “Maybe it’s time to talk to her, yeah? Figure out where to go from here?”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his stern gaze shifting to Ghost, assessing him. “And what exactly do you want from us? You’re in this, whether you like it or not.”

Ghost let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, voice hoarse. “But I can’t just let her slip away.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the weight of the situation settled in. Then, slowly, Ghost nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Just… not now. Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the street where you had disappeared, and something in his gaze softened, just for a moment, before the mask fell back into place.

Price gave a single nod. "Alright. But we stick together on this. You’re not doing it alone, Ghost."

The team stood together for a moment longer, the wind howling through the alley, before they slowly began to move, their steps trailing off into the winter evening. The silence that hung between them was thick with uncertainty. No one knew what came next, but they knew one thing for sure: whatever happened, they were in this together.

A month passed, the team giving Ghost the space he needed to process the whirlwind that had hit him. They all knew this was something he had to handle on his own terms, but that didn't mean the questions didn't linger. What did it mean for the future? What did he want? The answers were still unclear, even to Ghost himself.

But Soap, ever the persistent one, wasn’t content to let things sit in limbo. He knew Ghost, knew how his mind worked, and that sometimes the best way to breakthrough was to take small steps. And if that meant subtly nudging you into the picture, then so be it. He’d always been good at this—at slipping in the background, making things happen without anyone noticing.

So, Soap started to "accidentally" run nto you. At the park, when you were out with Adira, he'd make sure to be in the same place at the same time, offering a casual greeting. It always started simple, harmless, with a nod or a small comment about the weather. Then, of course, there was that coffee shop where you'd gone to get hot chocolate for Adira.

The first time he "bumped" into you there, it was nothing more than a quick exchange. A question about the drink, a comment on the cold weather, just the usual small talk. But Johnny's natural charm and ease made you relax, and made the conversation flow without much effort. Over time, those small moments grew. You'd smile when you'd see him, and he'd greet you with the same friendly energy, always leaving you feeling at ease. No pressure, just casual.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Johnny began to warm you up to the idea of him. It wasn't much at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't pushing, just letting the connection build at its own pace. The more you saw him, the more comfortable you felt. The more you talked, the more you found yourself enjoying the interactions, even if they were brief.

One evening, Johnny sat beside you on the park bench, casually leaning back as Adira bounced around in the snow, her laughter filling the crisp air. The sound was contagious, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, watching her with a soft smile.

"So, me and a couple friends are meeting up at Leslie's this weekend," Johnny said, his tone light but with a hint of something more. "Would you be interested?"

You snorted, expecting the usual joke or teasing, but when you glanced over at him, his expression was far more serious than you anticipated. For a moment, you considered dismissing it. After all, Leslie's? A pub? That was a far cry from the cozy routine you’d built for yourself with Adira.

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I fit the scene."

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that playful grin of his. “Please. It'll just be like old times.”

Your mind immediately wandered, trying to understand what he meant by that. What was it about old times that Johnny thought might appeal to you? You didn’t exactly have a wild past to cling to. Sure, you’d had your moments, but those felt long behind you now.

Still, something about the invitation lingered. A night out... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You hadn’t done anything for you in a while. And maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to let someone else take care of the night for once. No worrying about Adira, no responsibilities for a few hours. Just some fun, whatever that meant now.

You hesitated, looking down at Adira as she made another snow angel, oblivious to the conversation happening nearby. She’d be fine, right? And you could leave if things felt uncomfortable.

“Alright,” you finally said, meeting Johnny’s gaze with a reluctant but genuine smile. "I'll join you. But only if it’s not as crazy as you’re making it sound."

Johnny’s grin widened, and you could tell he was already mentally planning the evening, no doubt with some plan to ease you in without overwhelming you. He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants as he glanced back at you.

“Deal. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.”

You just hoped he wasn’t overselling it.

The weekend seemed to arrive so fast, and here you were, standing outside your apartment, nervously adjusting your blue blouse and jeans. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit you thought would fit a night out, but it was the best you could do. Most of your wardrobe these days consisted of comfortable clothes, ones that could be easily changed or wiped clean in case Adira had another of her toddler mishaps. Sexy or flirty clothes were a distant memory, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust.

Adira stood in the doorway, clutching her little stuffed bear to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. The sight hit you harder than you expected. You knelt down in front of her, your heart sinking at the sight of her teary eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, I promise,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, reaching out to her with a reassuring smile.

Adira sniffled, her tiny hand coming up to rub her eyes, but she didn’t break her stare. You held out your pinky, the gesture as familiar as breathing. Slowly, she reached out, her small finger wrapping around yours with the same trust she always had. The connection was brief, but it felt like a promise, one that you hoped would calm her.

"I won't be out long," you said softly to the friend you’d left with her. "And you, be good for Auntie too." The last part was directed at Adira, though the words felt bittersweet on your tongue.

Adira nodded, but her face still held that sadness, that uncertainty of what the night would bring without you.

Standing up, you ruffled her hair and offered a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just a little fun for Mama, okay?”

Her small nod didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest, but you turned and gave her one last look before stepping outside. The cool evening air wrapped around you, a contrast to the warmth of the apartment behind you, but you pushed the feeling away. Tonight was for you, however strange that sounded.

Locking the door behind you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t just any night out. It was a night with Johnny, with his friends, with the possibility of reconnecting to parts of yourself you’d set aside for so long.

Arriving outside the establishment, the familiar hum of chatter and music filled the night air, but what caught your attention first was Johnny standing outside, leaning against the brick wall, checking his watch. The moment his eyes met yours, they lit up, his expression shifting from casual to something almost... eager.

“Well, well, look at you,” he said with that trademark wink of his, his gaze raking over you with a genuine appreciation that made you feel suddenly self-conscious. “You clean up well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. It was hard to resist the easy charm of Johnny.

“Let’s just hope I survive this night,” you muttered, though the words were more for yourself than him. You weren’t sure what to expect tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things might not go as smoothly as Johnny seemed to think.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get going before I change my mind.”

With that, you fell into step beside him, the weight of your hand at your side suddenly feeling strange in the cool night air. He led you toward the door, and as you entered the dimly lit space of the bar, your eyes scanned the room.

It was bustling, a mix of regulars and newcomers, all seeking solace or company for the night. It smelled of beer, whiskey, and the faintest hint of fried food, a familiar and welcoming kind of atmosphere. But as soon as you stepped inside, your nerves shot back up again. You tried not to let the nerves show, but they were there, itching under your skin.

What you didn’t notice, as you made your way to the bar, was the group inside. Ghost, Price, Gaz, Roach—quietly observing, waiting for their chance to either speak to you or simply let you slip through their fingers once more. Ghost’s eyes tracked you the moment you stepped inside, and there was a hesitation in his gaze, something raw and almost pained that flickered in and out.

For a moment, Ghost didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched you, aware that the moment he’d been dreading—he had finally stumbled into. Your gaze met his across the room, the flicker of recognition passing between you both. But that was it. You didn’t remember. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know what he was to you.

Approaching the bar, you saw that Johnny was already leaning in, chatting with the bartender, exchanging friendly banter. You barely heard the words, only caught up in the feeling that something was different. Something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced back at the table where those men sat. They weren’t talking, but their eyes were all trained on you, as if waiting for something to happen.

Your heart raced without explanation. Ghost’s eyes—those eyes—stayed locked on you. He didn’t know how to approach, how to change what had already seemingly been set in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was the plan now that you were here, so close? God, why the fuck did johnny do this.

Johnny leaned toward you again, a soft smile curling his lips. “You good, love?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the uneasy tension brewing in your chest. “Just... getting used to being out.”

Johnny winked again, oblivious to the chaos of emotions swirling within you. “It’s all good. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Ghost’s fist clenched involuntarily under the table. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this distance, this silent acknowledgment of his role, or how long he could ignore what it meant to see you here now.

“You’ll fit right in,” Johnny said, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “Just a bunch of mates enjoying a drink, nothing crazy.” Johnny leads you over to the table, you expected to be met with… well you didn't quite know what.

Price leaned back in his seat, cigar in hand, a soft smile on his weathered face as he regarded you with a raised brow. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

"Neither did I," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile and doing your best to ignore the gnawing feeling that lingered when you looked at him. You hadn’t quite expected this part of the evening.

“I’m just here for a drink, nothing more,” you said, looking over at Johnny was getting comfortable in his chair.

“Well, pull up a seat, love,” Price said, motioning to the empty spot next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You hesitated but made your way over, perching yourself on the seat next to him. The sound of the glass being slid toward you, the clink of ice against glass, broke through the chatter around you. Your nerves buzzed as you focused on the drink in front of you, trying to ignore the sudden realization of just how different this was from the quiet, routine life you had at home with Adira.

“Enjoy yourself,” Price said with an air of casual amusement, leaning back in his chair. “This is all new for you, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to admit just how out of place you felt in the moment. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of whiskey warming you from the inside out.

You laugh lightly, a bit awkwardly, trying to shake off the nerves that gnawed at you. "Yeah, this all a bit... newish. I haven't been out like this in years honestly," you admit, taking a deep breath and glancing around the bar. The warmth of the space was a welcome contrast to the chill outside, but the sight of the men made you feel more like a fish out of water than ever.

Johnny claps you on the back with an easy grin, clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “These are my mates. Price, Kyle, Gary, and Simon," he introduces with a flourish, motioning to each man in turn.

You give them all a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of them just yet. There was something about the way they carried themselves, all standing a little apart from the crowd, that made it clear they were more than just regulars at the pub. But you didn’t have time to focus too much on that right now. You were trying to just survive the night.

Price, who looked a bit older than the rest, nods at you, his gaze thoughtful, almost cautious. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a tone that is polite but distant, as though he’s waiting for something, some sign.

Kyle, as Johnny had called him—gives you a friendly nod, a playful glint in his eyes, but there's a strange sharpness to his look that you can’t quite place. “Pleasure," he says, offering you a tight smile.

Gary simply gives you a quick but sincere nod. His eyes linger on you just long enough for you to catch a flicker of interest before he looks away.

And then there’s Simon. His presence, as always, is quieter, more intense. He’s sitting in the middle, arms crossed, his gaze fixed directly on you. You can feel the weight of it, though. It’s impossible not to. There was something you couldn't place with him though you couldn’t see too well under the dim light.

You try to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. “Nice to meet you all," you reply, your voice warmer than you feel.

Johnny, oblivious to the awkwardness in the air, slaps the bar and gives a nod. “Alright, drinks all around, yeah? Let’s get this party started!” he declares, pulling the group into the rhythm of the night.

As the revelry began your stomach churns slightly, a sense of unease still lingering despite the distraction. You knew something was off, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the men—it was the way Simon’s gaze lingered on you, the way he looked at you as if he were waiting for something. It unsettled you, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Johnny, seemingly oblivious to your tension, slides a drink toward you. “First round’s on me," he grins, the clink of glass against the table snapping you back to the present. "Here’s to a good night.”.

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves that still clung to you. This was supposed to be a night out, after all. A chance to shake off the past, to let loose just a little. You couldn’t let the weight of everything pull you under before you even tried. What would be the point if you didn’t at least try and enjoy yourself?

Shaking the tension from your shoulders, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of alcohol easing the knot in your stomach just slightly. The guys were chatting among themselves, Johnny’s laughter cutting through the low hum of the bar as he joked with Kyle. Price was listening intently, nodding along while Gary seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes occasionally flicking to you, though his gaze didn’t linger long.

And then there was Simon.

His presence loomed even when he wasn’t speaking, his broad frame leaning against the bar just slightly, face half hidden by the shadows. You caught his eyes for a split second, the intensity of his stare making your pulse hitch. You quickly looked away, focusing on your drink, your nerves creeping back up despite the effort to push them aside.

You could feel his gaze on you, though, like a weight pressing against your back. You tried not to let it show, tried not to acknowledge how his proximity seemed to pull at something inside you, but it was impossible to ignore. There was a pull, something in the air, but you couldn’t quite grasp it.

Sighing inwardly, you turned your attention back to the others. Just enjoy yourself, you remind yourself again. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of it.

Johnny clinked his glass against yours, a grin on his face. “Here’s to not letting the night pass us by,” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile back, lifting your glass.

“Cheers,” you said, the warmth of the alcohol giving you just the nudge you needed to ease into the evening. For now, you’d ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You’d enjoy yourself.

But the eyes that lingered on you would remain, whether you were ready for them or not.

You pushed your chair back with more force than necessary, the scrape of it against the floor loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The conversation still echoed in your ears, but your focus had been on the man, Simon, for the past half hour. His silence had become suffocating, every glance he cast in your direction feeling like it held some hidden meaning. You couldn't quite place it, but something was off about him. His eyes, cold and intense, had followed you too much, made you second guess every word you’d said.

"Im... gonna go powder my nose," you muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. You didn’t wait for a response, the words barely out of your mouth before you were already making your way across the room, past the low hum of idle chatter and the clink of glasses.

While you were in the bathroom, the entire team turned their attention towards Ghost, each of them sizing him up, starting with Soap.

"What is wrong with you?" Soap asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"What?" Simon blinked, genuinely confused.

"Mate, you've been gawking at her all night," Gaz added, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing but laced with concern.

"Shit. Are you serious?" Simon muttered, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze didn't stray far from where you had just disappeared.

Roach, leaning back casually with his drink in hand, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's like you’ve been stuck in a staring contest with her since she walked in."

Price, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a resigned sigh. He snuffed out his cigar in the nearby ashtray, eyes narrowing as he met Simon's gaze. "If you scared her off, I doubt you’ll get another chance, lad."

Simon’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t realized how obvious it had been, but now that the team was calling him out on it, he felt the heat rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but the pull to look at you, to remember what had sparked your connection all those years ago had been almost magnetic.

“Alright, alright,” Soap teased, leaning in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just don't burn a hole in her head.”

“Shut up,” Simon muttered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this without making things worse.

Price shared a look with the rest of the team, a silent understanding passing between them. While Soap might have been the one to set this whole thing in motion, it didn't mean the others didn't have contingencies in place.

Soap got up first, stretching a bit. “Gonna make sure no one's tried to get in my car,” he said with a casual tone.

“I’ll come with you,” Gaz chimed in, already pushing himself up from his seat and following Soap toward the door.

A minute later, Roach also stood, excusing himself without a word, and then Price followed suit, his movements deliberate. “I’m gonna make sure they’re not up to anything,” he said with a knowing glance.

With everyone out of the immediate area, the bar suddenly felt quieter, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken. It took Ghost only a second for it all to click—he had been set up. Without thinking, he bolted from his seat, rushing outside just in time to catch the taillights of Soap's car disappearing down the street.

He cursed under his breath, but before he could make another move, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. There, in simple words from Price:

“Good luck.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, phone in hand, as the weight of the situation hit him. His heart thudded in his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

By the time you returned to the table, you felt a bit more at ease. The night out wasn’t all that bad… it was just that Johnny had some weird taste in friends. Well, mostly the tall one. You couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to have left, a pit forming in your stomach at the thought of being ditched.

You let out a quiet sigh, about to gather your things and head out when your phone lit up in your purse. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Johnny.

"Emergency, looks like one of the beers wasn't that good, poor Kyle threw up."

You paused, reading the message again, a small smile tugging at your lips. Aww… nevermind. At least they hadn’t forgotten about you after all.

"Hope he's okay." You replied quickly, grabbing the straps of your bag when suddenly a hand landed on top of yours.

You looked up, meeting the intense gaze of Simon. Seriously? You couldn’t help but think. They took everyone but this guy?

You forced a smile, trying to pull your hand away, but Simon’s grip was firm, not unkind. “Look, I had a decent time, but I have to go—”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted, his voice low, steady, almost pleading. There was something about the way he said it that made you pause, something different than the usual small talk.

"Fine." The word slipped out before you could process it, and you cursed yourself inwardly. Really? You just agreed to stay with the guy who hadn’t stopped staring since you met him. You sat back down, and he mirrored you, settling across the table.

Silence stretched between you, his intense gaze unwavering. He didn’t so much as blink, and you couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by the second.

What the hell is his deal?

“Look, if you're just going to be a creep, I don't think I want to mee—"

“Do you remember Armed Forces Day?” His voice cut through your words, quiet but resolute.

Okay, this took all day, I wanted to give you all something long to read incase I disappear for finals (which I might)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

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